Republic High
by Ink17
Summary: Anakin Skywalker is a disciplined fencing phenom from another town. Padmé a rebel skater chick, resents his arrival at Master Yoda's Academy for boys and girls. Will love blossom, or will they kill each other first? AU
1. Chapter 1

** Alright guys, I've been struck by a lightning bolt filled with the awesomeness that will become: Republic High, a fun little AU yarn about Anakin and Padmé's adventures in high school. I'd tell you more, but I don't want to spoil it. Before we start though- **

** I own nothing. All characters are the property of George Lucas, I'm just manipulating them for my own selfish purposes.**

** On with the show!**

_**::Audio Recording::**_

_Padmé: Anakin Skywalker? Yeah, I've heard of him. So what?_

_ Nelvin: The guy's a celebrity. And he's coming to our school. You do the math._

_ Padmé _(sarcastically)_: It doesn't sound that complicated. Celebrity wannabe shows up to prestigious school. Prestigious school gets public recognition. Screaming fan girls line the halls, cheering and throwing themselves at the Force's gift to mankind. Big kriffing whoop. Can I go now?_

_ Nelvin: _(sighs)_ Must you always be so difficult? I just need some help for the school newscast tomorrow morning. Would you be willing to be present for the TV broadcast tomorrow?_

_ Padmé _(groans)_: No. We've been over this before Nelvin, I don't _do_ public speaking. Leave me alone._

_ Nelvin: Aw, come on! Please?_

_ Padmé: Start groveling now and I'll consider it. I'm going to go skate. Later._

_ Nelvin: Padmé wait! The interview starts at-_

_ Padmé: Bye Nelvin._

_ Nelvin: But,_

_ Padmé _(firmly)_: Good-_bye Nelvin.

_**::End Recording::**_

Nelvin Sparringer sighed as Padmé dropped her skateboard onto the tile and pushed off, cruising away down the hall, deftly weaving in and out of students.

Nelvin sighed as Padmé disappeared into the throng of students, red-and-black flannel button-down flapping as she cruised away.

Padmé, despite her attitude problems, was a unique individual. She was firey and outspoken, dressed like a guy, and she wasn't afraid to throw down with the best of them. She'd joined- although _had been sentenced to _was a more apt description- Master Yoda's academy at the behest of her parents, Ruwee and Dormé Naberrie.

They thought the place would break her of her un-ladylike habits, when in truth they'd only gotten worse.

She'd even joined the fencing team as a stab at her parents for sending her here, to Coruscant-one of the busiest places on the planet. She much preferred her hometown of Naboo- it was much quieter.

But, she'd found her niche here as well. She was the girl with the attitude problem; one of the guys, in all respects except one- she had to sit down to pee.

She smirked to herself as Nelvin called after her, he was just _too_ easy to manipulate. Lost in thought, she slammed into another student and went sprawling to the floor. She recovered immediately, snatching her skateboard off the floor without bothering to look up.

"Watch it, poser." She snarled, dropping the board and kicking off down the hall, wheels whirring as she rolled away.

Anakin Skywalker stared after picked his backpack and books off the ground, shaking his dark brown hair out of his ice-blue eyes. He frowned. "Nice place." He muttered, shaking his head.

Just then, a weasely-looking skinny kid ran up with a digital recorder in his hand, out of breath.

"Hey," He gasped. "My name's…Nelvin. Have you seen a girl, skinny as a rail, dark hair, brown eyes, about yea high?" Nelvin said, holding his hand out at shoulder height- and he wasn't very tall either.

"Yeah. I think she's the one who ran me over. She went that way." Anakin replied, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

"Thanks." Nelvin replied, and he was about to tear off after Padmé when he stopped. "Wait a second…You're Anakin Skywalker, right?" He asked.

Anakin glared at him. "Not so loud!" He hissed, flicking up the hood of his sweatshirt to conceal his features.

"Would you be interested in doing an interview for the morning newscast?" Nelvin said suddenly.

Anakin sighed. "Yeah, sure, whatever." He ran a hand through his hair. Just don't make a big to-do about it alright? The last thing I need is the paparazzi following me to school."

"Sure, okay. Will do. Erm…I mean won't do. You know what I mean. See you tomorrow. Meet me in the office at 8:30 sharp. It's just a simple interview, nothing fancy."

"Okay. Remember, _No bells and whistles_. I'll see you tomorrow."

Nelvin raced off after Padmé and Anakin dropped his head into his hands.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ He wondered. "Wait a minute!" He shouted after Nelvin. "How do I get to the office?"

***Waves hand* You will click the blue button and leave a review. Yes, I know it's short. This is just the opening chapter. Future ones will be longer. Remember, reviews mean updates!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot.**

**Thanks for all the reviews so far guys! I really appreciate them!**

**On with Chapter 2!**

Anakin Skywalker, fencing champion from the backwater slum city of Tattooine squared his shoulders and held his head high as he walked into Master Yoda's academy for his first day of class.

_ I can handle this._ He told himself. He pushed open the double-doors and walked into the complete-and utter mayhem that was MYA first thing in the morning.

There was a tall, elderly, standing ramrod straight at the entrance to what Anakin assumed was the main office.

Anakin walked over to the man, hesitating slightly. "Excuse me, sir?" He asked.

"Hello, my boy, how can I help you?" The man asked cheerfully.

"Could you tell me where I can find the main office? I need my class schedule, and I'm supposed to help someone with the morning newscast."

"Right through this door, young man." The old man said, moving to allow Anakin to pass.

"Thanks, Mister…" Anakin trailed off when he realized he didn't know the man's name.

"Palpatine. Principal Palpatine." The older man supplied. "You wouldn't happen to be Anakin Skywalker, would you?" Palpatine asked quietly.

"Yes, sir, that's me." Anakin said, fighting to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"A pleasure to meet you Anakin." Palpatine replied, shaking Anakin's hand warmly. "My advice to you would be to try and stay out of trouble. We have several very…how shall I put this? _Dedicated_ principals at this school, and a zero-tolerance policy for, bullying, and the use of death-sticks, or alcohol on school property."

"Thank you for the warning, Mister Palpatine. I don't plan on causing any trouble. I just want to lay low, and finish school, and then move to the other side of the world where nobody cares if you're famous." Anakin sighed as he walked past the man.

The school office was relatively small, with only a few faculty members in it at the moment.

The secretary, whose nametag read: Taun We, greeted him pleasantly. "Good morning! You must be Anakin Skywalker. We've been expecting you."

"No kidding," Anakin quipped, slightly irritated at how well-known he was on his _first_ day. This was supposed to have been a fresh start.

"Anyway, welcome to Master Yoda's Academy. Here is you schedule, and the newsroom is in the back, second door on your left. Nelvin Dooku told me you would be helping him out with his newscast this morning. That's very nice of you." Taun We rambled.

_Dooku? Nice name. _Anakin thought, smirking inwardly. He took his slip of paper from the secretary. He looked briefly at his schedule, frowning for a fraction of a second. _I'm going to be so lost._ He thought. "Thank you, miss. Have a nice day." He said, his deep, masculine voice drawing an amused smile from the woman.

_That boy is going to have his hands full; he'll have to fend off the girls with a stick!_ Taun We thought, chuckling to herself.

Anakin walked dutifully back into the newsroom, where Nelvin was waiting for him.

He glanced quickly around the small room, seeing a camera, a few students present for the studio audience and Nelvin-grinning like an idiot.

"Skywalker! You finally showed! I was beginning to worry that you were gonna ditch me." Nelvin drawled.

Anakin groaned. "Didn't I just tell you _not _to make a big deal out of all this?"

"_Relax_, it's just an interview." Nelvin persuaded.

Anakin scoffed, his blue eyes hardening. "I'll believe _that_ when I see it. I'm warning you now: If this blows up in my face, I'm coming after _you_." With that, he sat down at the desk across from Nelvin, in front of where the camera was set up. He took a small microphone from Nelvin and clipped it to his shirt.

The student behind the camera checked his watch and then held up a hand.

"We're rolling in five, four, three, two…" He pointed at Nelvin.

_**::Audio-Video Recording::**_

Nelvin (_enthusiastically_): Good Morning MYA! Welcome to this morning's newscast. We have a special guest with us today. Please welcome Anakin Skywalker!

_(Audience applauds. A few whistles are heard)_

Nelvin: So, how are you doing this morning, Anakin? It's great to have you with us.

Anakin (_waves to camera_): Um, it's good to be here. I'm fine, just trying to get settled in you know. This place is _huge_!

Nelvin (_chuckles_): Yeah, it is, but you'll know the place like the back of your hand before too long. Speaking of hands, I hear you're pretty good with a sword.

Anakin (_smiles nervously_): Well, I don't know about that. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion.

Nelvin: That's not what I hear.

Anakin (_irritated_): Oh really?

Nelvin: Yeah, you were on the news and everything last year. Didn't you win "Fencer of the Decade" or some other fancy award? And weren't you hired for a few leading roles in some films last year?

Anakin: It's not really an award; it's just something our school does back home, apparently I set some kind of record. It's nothing too impressive really. The films were just TV productions; I'm not a silver-screen type of guy.

Nelvin: Well, anyways, we're glad to have you with us. Have a great year man.

Anakin (_smiling_): Sure thing man. Thanks for having me on the show.

(_Anakin stands up, waves to the camera and leaves._)

Nelvin: Well, that's all the time we have for this morning; and now we will have a word from Principal Palpatine. Take it away sir.

_** ::Recording Ends::**_

Anakin stood just behind the camera's operator as the newscast finished, glaring at Nelvin.

"'Just an interview' huh?" He growled.

Nelvin smiled benevolently. "It's just business my friend. When people realize that we have a celebrity attending out facility, I stand to make a _lot_ of credits. I'm sure you understand."

_I knew I shouldn't have trusted him. _Nobody _is that friendly to the new kid._ Anakin berated himself mentally. With an ice-cold glower at Nelvin, he pasted a smile on his face. "Yeah, I understand. I hope for your sake, that I don't need to take drastic action to remove myself from the public eye. The results would be rather…unfortunate for you I'm afraid." Anakin said politely, and then excused himself.

As he walked back into the office, he caught sight of the girl who'd run him over in the hall the previous Friday.

"Hello," Anakin said, smiling.

"Yo," Padmé replied, fixing him with a hard brown gaze. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, covered mostly by her sideways white ballcap. She was wearing a baggy green concert hoodie, dark denim skinny jeans, and Vans skate shoes. She was using her skateboard as a footrest, occasionally practicing a kick flip. "Can I help you?" She sneered.

Anakin flinched, taken by surprise. "No, I was just saying 'hello', sorry to have bothered you." He said politely, and excused himself. He paused. "I don't suppose you could tell me how to get to room 97?"

"Go out the office door, take a left, then a right, then another left, and it's the fifth door on the right-hand side." Padmé deadpanned.

"Thanks," Anakin said as he turned to leave.

"Whatever," Padmé dismissed him with a wave.

Anakin made for the exit.

"Other way," Padmé interjected, rolling her eyes.

"Oh…I knew that." Anakin chuckled, embarrassed.

"Just go," Padmé groaned, and shoved her earphones in her ears.

"Thanks for the…help." Anakin trailed off when he saw that Padmé was completely ignoring him. He glanced at the clock, then at Padmé, and then at the clock once more before he hurried out so he could be on time for his next class.

**Love it? Hate it? Think Padmé's a jerk? Click the review button and drop me a line! Reviews mean updates! See you next chapter!**

_**~Ink** _


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you guys so much for all the reviews! I need some new words of gratitude…these are getting stale. **

** New chapter of RH is coming in hot! We get to see Padmé's POV for the first time. I hope you enjoy it! Be sure to let me know what you think!**

Padmé was still sitting in the office when Dooku breezed out of the newsroom, smiling conspiratorially.

"This is gonna be great! He totally bought it!" Dooku snickered.

Padmé barely spared him a second glance. As he strolled past.

Dooku stopped short of the door. "Aren't you going to ask 'what'?" He queried

Padmé looked up at him disdainfully. "To be completely, ruthlessly, soul-crushingly honest with you, I don't care."

"Your feisty…I like that." Dooku leered.

With a deft movement, Padmé kicked the skateboard up into her hand. "Touch me and you're going to _wish_ I'd killed you." She snarled, standing up.

"Is there a problem here Mr. Dooku?" Principal Palpatine asked, stepping out of his office.

"Not at all sir, I was just leaving." Dooku replied, totally blasé as he stepped smoothly out of the room."

Palpatine turned his attention to Padmé. "Alright Miss Naberrie, you know why you're here." He beckoned the apathetic teenager into his office with a weary wave of his hand.

Padmé followed him in and dropped into her usual chair; she had logged some serious time in here.

"Now, I have very patiently reminded you of school policy, Miss Naberrie, and yet you continue to take advantage of my leniency. That time has come to an end. Please report to the dean of students' office for disciplinary action." Palpatine instructed with a weary sigh.

Padmé said nothing, but made an offensive hand gesture and marched out of the room, snickering.

She slid into her usual spot until the Dean of Students looked up from his paperwork.

"Ah, Miss Naberrie, to what do I owe the pleasure this time?" The tall man asked.

"The usual this time Mr. Maul…skateboarding on school property, use of death-sticks in the girls refresher, and consumption of alcohol during lunch hour." Padmé answered.

Cyrus Maul sighed. "Have you considered the possibility that maybe the rules were made to _benefit_ you? Not to put a chokehold on your freedom?" He asked, running a large hand over his dark forehead.

Padmé leered back at him. "I have, sir. And then I dismissed it immediately."

Maul struggled to keep his composure. "Well, then, why don't you spend this Saturday sitting at your desk and writing a three thousand word essay on the benefits of rules."

"What the _kriff! _Are you _nuts_? The _Sublight Slashers_ are playing the Senate Arena this weekend! I _have_ to be there!" Padmé effectively roared.

Maul answered with a smugly-satisfied smirk of his own. "Make that, four-thousand. Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to break the rules. The only place you are _required_ to be is here, on Saturday morning, at six A.M. sharp."

Padmé scowled and shoved herself out of her chair. "Kriff you." She sneered.

"Six thousand. Would you like to try for seven, Miss Naberrie?"

Padmé's scowl deepened. "No…_sir_."

"Alright then. You are dismissed. Please make sure to get a pass from the Secretary; you're late for first period." Maul instructed.

Without another word, Padmé stalked out of the room.

Maul allowed himself to smile. One way or another, that insolent child was going to adhere to the rules.

_*****Later That Day…*****_

Padmé dropped into her seat in the busy cafeteria, sitting her tray on the table with a sharp smack. Her upper lip curled in disgust when the crowded lunch room erupted in cheers as Anakin Skywalker strode in.

_Look at him, self-righteous, arrogant, sexless little marsh-toad basking in the admiration of all the drooling mudcrutch fan-girls. Probably thinks he can bork whoever he wants. That's just kriffing disgusting._ She mentally gagged.

Slowly, the cheers died down.

No longer having much of an appetite, she picked at the pizza she'd been so eager to eat just moments before.

Just then, Obi-Wan Kenobi cruised up on his skateboard, dropping into the seat across from her.

"That's just kriffing disgusting." He groaned, running a hand through spiked brown hair-shot through with blue dye.

Padmé laughed. "Dude, I was just thinking the _exact_ same thing!"

The two of them bumped fists.

"So, what brings you skulking back to skater crew? Couldn't hack it with the BMX scrag-ends?" Padmé ribbed good-naturedly, slugging Obi-Wan a few times for good measure.

Obi-Wan grinned. "Nope, and I've got YouTube to prove it. Two words: _epic fail_."

Mace Windu, came up then, holding a small video camera. "Kenobi! Naberrie!" The dark-skinned youth razzed, slugging Kenobi with a flurry of none-too-gentle punches."

"_Mace!_" Obi-Wan replied in turn, returning a few slugs of his own, which only earned him more punishment from Mace. "Why?" Obi-Wan wondered quietly, rubbing his chest.

"I don't know," Mace said in his baritone voice. "You just have this wimp-vibe; it's constantly screaming: hit me!"

Obi Wan rolled his eyes.

"When did you get back?" Padmé asked her other friend.

"I just flew in. The contest was great, I wish you guys could've been there." Mace answered, referring to the skate competition he'd taken part in over the weekend in the small city of Yavin.

"I bet you ripped." Padmé said, smiling.

"You know it." Mace replied, hi-fiving Padmé.

"Oh, _Force_." Padmé groaned.

"Wha-" Obi-Wan began to ask. And then he saw.

Anakin Skywalker was making their way over to _their _table.

"What's wrong with him?" Mace wondered, having missed the boy's arrival earlier that morning.

"He's the new kid." Obi-Wan explained. "Padmé doesn't like him 'cause he famous."

"So what?" Mace asked, looking incredulously at his female companion. "Dude, admit it, if he was a skater, you would be all over that shiz."

Padmé took a swig of her soda and belched. "Would I?" She raised an eyebrow.

Mace just laughed at his friend's attempt to change the subject. "Why don't you like him?"

"I just don't like him. He's so kriffing arrogant." She moaned.

"Were you even watching the newscast this morning?" Obi-Wan asked. "He seemed like a pretty-down-to-earth guy. And Dooku gave him plenty of chances to flaunt his accomplishments."

"No, I was too busy hitting the eight-set out front to catch it. Besides, he's guilty until proven innocent." Padmé countered.

"I think you've got it backwards Padmé." Mace interjected.

"We'll see." Padmé replied.

"Is this seat taken?" Anakin asked politely.

"Do you see anyone in it?" Padmé snapped.

Very slowly, Anakin sat down in the empty seat.

"'Sup" Mace asked, extending a hand. "I'm Mace."

Anakin shook it gratefully, happy to finally interact with someone who wasn't swooning over him. "Anakin. Nice to meet you." He said.

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi,"

Anakin shook his hand as well. "My pleasure."

"And I'm leaving." Padmé snarled. With that, she got up and cruised out of the cafeteria.

"What'd I do?" Anakin wondered, staring after her.

"Nothing." Mace assured him. "She's actually pretty nice, once you get to know her. She just doesn't like famous people. Thinks they all believe their '_entitled_' or some slag like that. She'll come around…eventually…we hope." Mace said, losing conviction with each word. "Hey, she might even like you. But if you even want the _ghost_ of a shot with her. You'll have to convince her that you're not like everybody else. And…since she won't even look at you, let alone talk to you, that might be pretty difficult."

"Yeah, that'll be the day. Padmé Naberrie becomes an actual girl." Obi-Wan snickered in disbelief.

"Not to change the subject or anything, but do you guys know where I can find the fencing practice room? I'm supposed to go there after school and I've already gotten lost three times today."

"No problem, we'll walk you there. We're headed to the same place." Obi-Wan offered.

"You guys fence?" Anakin asked, surprised.

"All the boys do. Principal Palpatine thinks we need a 'structured outlet for our testosterone-fueled aggression.' At least that's how he puts it." Obi-Wan explained.

"Thanks." Anakin replied.

"You can thank me if you live. The fencing instructor doesn't play games. And the swords are real."

"You fight with real swords?" Anakin's eyes widened.

"You don't? We have armor plating and stuff, but only posers use those metal twigs you see in the Olympics. Don't tell me you've never fought with an actual sword before." Mace stared at Anakin in disbelief.

"Um, actually , I haven't" Anakin admitted.

"May the Force be with you dude; otherwise you're hosed." Obi-Wan said pointedly.

Anakin gulped nervously. _Crap!_

**Like it? Hate it? Let me know! And check out the links on my profile for character theme songs!**

**Also, I just wanted to let you guys know that Republic High, Endless March, and Xmen Evo: Picking up the Pieces will not be updated for the week of Jan. 15-22, because I'm going on vacation. I'll try my best to have another chapter for you guys before I leave on Friday, but I can't promise anything.**

**Remember, Reviews mean updates!**

**~_Ink_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, due to a massive influx of reviews I feel compelled to at least make a small offering, to the readers…its Update Time! **

**I'm glad that I've been able to put a semi-new spin on a frequently-used plot line…I hope it works out well- I _think_ I'm going in the right direction, but that's for you guys to decide.**

**Let me know what you think!**

Anakin looked at the suit of armor in his hands skeptically. "_This _thing is supposed to protect me from a sword?" He wondered.

"It's tougher than it looks." Mace admonished, fastening his own suit of protection.

"It better be." Anakin said. With that remark, he jerked the suit over his head.

"Think fast," Obi-Wan warned, tossing Anakin a sword.

Anakin recovered from his surprise immediately, catching the heavy weapon by the hilt with a sure hand. "It's heavier than I'm used to." He admitted. With a few deft spins, he accustomed himself to the heft of the blade. He glanced at it as if being reunited with an old friend, and then sheathed it in the scabbard connected to his armor.

"We should get going, coach doesn't have much patience for late-comers." Mace cautioned.

The three teammates walked out to the fencing ring, finding it empty except for the coach and Nelvin Dooku.

Anakin met Dooku's eyes as he entered the room with a confident swagger.

Dooku looked terrified for an instant, and then his expression turned smug. "Well, well, well the hero finally makes his appearance."

Anakin ignored Dooku's jibe and went to join Obi-Wan and Mace who were sitting on the bleachers, waiting for the coach to finish writing notes on the board.

The coach turned around and removed his ball cap, his thinning white hair sticking up in tufts. "Ah," He said gruffly, chewing on a large wad of gum as he consulted his clipboard for a brief moment. "Anakin Skywalker? They told me you'd be coming."

"That's me sir," Anakin said, nodding affirmatively.

"My name is Cin Drallig, I'll be your fencing coach for this year. I have to admit, your record is pretty impressive, son. Let's see if you live up to the legend." He smiled.

"I'm not sure I'll live up to your expectations at the moment, Mr. Drallig, I've never fenced with a real sword before." Anakin admitted sheepishly.

"Nonsense boy, you'll get accustomed to it eventually. Let's see what you can do. Dooku, are you up for a little friendly sparring?" Cin requested.

Dooku's lips parted in an almost-feral grin. "Sure coach." He replied amicably. He strolled over to the long padded mat in the center of the room. He motioned to Anakin, flourishing his blade intimidatingly.

Anakin pushed himself off of the bleachers, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. He took his place across from Dooku, letting his blade fall casually to his side in a deceptively relaxed stance.

Coach Drallig stepped between the two opponents. "Alright fellas, I want a good, clean fight. Show me what you can do." He instructed seriously.

"No prob coach," Dooku replied, almost too agreeably.

"Got it." Anakin answered gravely as Cin backed away.

"Begin." He said.

Dooku advanced much more quickly than Anakin had anticipated. He threw a quick flurry of strikes, adding several unnecessary flourishes and spins.

Anakin remained docile for the first exchange, gauging Dooku's ability. He was surprised to learn that Dooku and he were evenly matched. He threw up his blade to block Dooku's swift chop and batted the boy's next lunge aside with a deft twist of his blade. Anakin went on the offensive, his casual stance and skillful display of blade flourishes confirmed his prowess.

The duel continued, both boys showing an exceptional level of skill and several difficult maneuvers were exhibited. The two boys locked blades, struggling fiercely.

"What's the matter Glamour Boy? Can't handle a real fight?" Dooku snarled, landing a solid kick to Anakin's ribs.

The anger that had been twisting in his guts came to a head and he flew at Dooku in a fury. Batting Dooku's lunge aside, he followed up with a punch to the face that sent the other boy reeling.

He pressed his advantage, hammering on Dooku's defenses with a vicious overhand hack that bent Dooku's wrists weakened his grip on the sword enough that Anakin's next swing knocked the weapon from his grasp.

Dooku stumbled back and fell to a knee.

Anakin kicked Dooku's weapon out of reach and leveled his sword at the other boy's throat.

"Do you yield?" Anakin asked coolly, fighting the smug grin that threatened to break across his stoic countenance.

"Yes." Dooku mumbled.

Slowly, there was clapping and cheering.

Obi-Wan leaned over to Mace. " He's _good_." He observed

"_That_ boys is how you fence." Coach Drallig said with a nod of approval at Anakin.

Dooku rose from his knees, a furious scowl etched across his face. Breifly he calculated his chances of striking a debilitating blow before the coach could warn Anakin. _No._ He decided. _It'll be better if I can show __**everyone**__ that hero's can bleed like everyone else. I'll just have to beat him in the deciding bout during the peliminaries. __**I'll**__ be the one who goes to regionals…And Glamour Boy will be humiliated._ Dooku rose from the floor, rubbing the sting from his forearms.

Anakin bowed respectfully. "Thanks, coach." He returned to take his place in the stands with Mace and Obi-Wan.

"Nice," Mace commented, slapping Anakin's shoulder in a comradely gesture.

Anakin grinned, then turned his attention to Coach Drallig as he outlined the year's plans.

Padmé sat on the bench outside the gymnasium as she waited for Mace and Obi-Wan to exit fencing practice. She smirked as she thought back to Dooku's crushing defeat at the hands of that poser, Anakin Skywalker.

It _had _been pretty satisfying to see Dooku get served, manipulative, conniving little mudcrutch whelp that he was. Es

Especially after that grueling essay Maul had forced her to write. _Sadist_ she thought inwardly.

A grin spread across her face as Obi-Wan and Mace, accompanied by Anakin, came out of the gym.

"_Force_ that detention was _brutal_. Kriffing Maul had me write a blasted _six-thousand_ word essay." Padmé razzed, bumping fists with Mace and Obi-Wan. She turned to Anakin. "Nice moves, poser." She snarked.

Anakin wasn't sure whether he should be flattered or offended. "Thanks…I think." He said, politely, smiling.

"What do you want, a kiss? I don't know where you get your delusions, laser brain." Padmé sneered. She turned on her heel and flounced away.

"You should give him a chance. He's really not so bad." Mace admonished.

Suddenly, inexplicably, a pang of regret, lanced through her chest. She turned around slowly. "I'm sorr-" She started to say, but Anakin was gone.

**So, what do you think? Review and let me know. If I get enough, I just might update one more time before I go on vacation! Please review…Please?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Umm…wow. You guys are awesome! Thank you so much for all the great reviews. Please keep it up! **

** It has been brought to my attention that many of the people in the story are OOC, I guess I forgot to warn you guys about that…my bad. However, in my experience, many other fics have Padmé as a sweet, caring, albeit, fragile person. While there's nothing wrong with this, it gets to be a little cliché after a while. Since I don't want my story to be filled with "Mary Sues" I thought it would be cool if she was just a little bit tougher, more edgy. **

**I hope you guys don't mind! Anyway, that's enough rambling. On to the next chapter!**

Anakin sighed in relief as he dropped into the comfortable seat of his '98 BMW, starting the engine with a tuned hum. _What a day._ He thought. He dropped the car into gear and was about to pull out of the parking lot when he realized he'd forgotten his backpack in his locker. Groaning, he turned off the machine and headed back inside. He consulted he map in his back pocket and made his way to his locker.

"I said, hands off, dirt bag!" Padmé's indignant shout reached Anakin's ears as he finished shutting his locker-her locker was just down the hall from his own.

Anakin glanced curiously in the direction of Padmé's venomous demand and found that another boy had Padmé trapped between the locker and his body, arms on either side of her head.

Anakin tried to ignore it, but his sense of chivalry wouldn't allow it. He strode over to where the boy and Padmé were having their altercation.

"Is there a problem here?" He intoned, deep voice threatening.

The other boy turned, sneering. "Get lost, pal." He snapped. "We're just talking."

Anakin's tone hardened. "That's not what it sounded like."

Padmé's assailant stabbed a finger at Anakin. " I _said,_ this doesn't concern you."

Anakin kept his face serene as the finger struck him. "Why don't you pick on somebody your own size; Padmé obviously doesn't want to speak with you." Anakin said, his voice dangerously calm.

The boy shoved him. "You want to make something of it?" He growled.

"I would be careful if I were you." Anakin replied.

The boy took a swing at him.

Anakin sidestepped and caught the boy's fist, corkscrewing his arm. With a deft leg sweep, he sent the boy sprawling to the ground. "Perhaps next time you can be more civil when you talk to women." He said.

The boy looked up, face red with humiliation. "I'll get you for this Skywalker!" He roared, before picking himself up off the floor and fleeing down the hallway.

Anakin turned to Padmé. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes. Thanks," Padmé said remorsefully.

"Who was that?" Anakin questioned.

"That was Paolo…we broke up recently, and he's had it out for me ever since."

"Let me know if he gives you anymore trouble."

"I can handle it." Padmé replied coolly. "I've gotta go…" With that, she walked away down the hall. She was almost at the end of the hall when she stopped and turned around. "Sorry about before." She said, so quietly that Anakin almost didn't hear her.

"Don't worry about it." Anakin replied. With a friendly wave, he disappeared in the opposite direction, returning to his car.

After making sure he had everything he needed, he checked his watch. _Stang. I'm late for work. Watto's going to kill me._ He groaned again, this time with fervor, and sped out of the parking lot in a cloud of smoke, tires screeching.

"You're late, Skywalker." Watto grunted, blowing out a puff of smoke from the cigar between his lips.

"Sorry. It won't happen again." Anakin replied carefully. He wondered if he should mention to his boss that it probably wasn't the best idea to smoke in a garage. The whole place reeked of oil and gasoline, and there were some puddles of stuff on the cement floor that Anakin was positive were flammable.

"I've heard that before. You're lucky you're the best Anakin, otherwise you'd be on the street right now." The fat man grunted from inside his fenced-in desk, shaking a stubby finger in Anakin's direction.

Anakin grimaced in disgust as the man's whole body seemed to undulate as his rolls of fat responded to the motion. "I'll keep that in mind. What's on the agenda for today?"

"Nothing yet…I'm sure some poor mudcrutch will come by with something sooner or later." Watto answered, consulting his grease-stained clipboard. Just as he finished his statement, there was a loud buzz that indicated that someone needed assistance.

"I'll go see what's up." Anakin offered.

Watto said, nothing, offering only a noncommittal grunt as Anakin walked away.

Anakin entered the main office, and was surprised to see Padmé, in the waiting room, looking distressed. She'd taken off her hat and was wringing it in her hands absent-mindedly

"Can I help you?" Anakin asked pleasantly.

Padmé looked up, startled. "Oh…hi. I didn't expect to see you here." She said.

"I work here," Anakin clarified.

"Oh. Anyway, my car keeps making this strange knocking sound. Could you take a look at it and see what's wrong? I really can't afford to have it die on me again." She explained.

"Sure, just bring it around back and we'll see what the problem is." Anakin replied.

"Okay, I'll be right back." Padmé answered gratefully and went to get her car.

Anakin returned to the garage and opened the door so Padmé could come inside.

She opened the hood, allowing Anakin to peer inside.

"Your timing belt is loose." He said almost immediately.

"Alright…What's it going to cost to get it fixed."

Anakin looked around cautiously to make sure Watto wouldn't hear what he said next. "Twenty bucks." He replied. "We usually charge a lot more, but I think we can make an exception in this case. I balance the books for Watto anyway, lazy tub of lard." Anakin sneered in an uncharacteristically venomous jibe.

"You don't have to do that. I may not like you very much, but I don't want to get you in trouble." Padmé replied kindly.

"Don't worry about it." Anakin countered.

"Why are you doing this?" Padmé asked. "I've been such a jerk to you, and still, you go out of your way, _risk your job _for Force's sake just to help me. What's your angle?"

"That's what friends do, isn't it?" Anakin replied mildly. "I can't force you to like me, but I can at least be a good friend. It's like they teach you in kindergarten- to have a friend, you have to be one first." Anakin chuckled. "Some people are just a little harder to get along with than others."

Padmé allowed herself a tiny smile. "Real subtle, Skywalker." And then. "I really _am_ sorry about before. I used to be class president, you know, sort of famous. And then I realized the awful things people have to do to stay on top, and I didn't like it at all. So, I figured that if I became the rebel, nobody would _want_ me as their class prez and I could go back to living a normal life. It was only after I started doing it that I realized how much _fun_ it is. I guess I kinda spiraled out of control there, but I'm not going back to my old life. Not ever. I guess I just sort of lumped you in that same category when you showed up. I figured you _must_ have done some pretty nasty things to get where you are in life. Now, I know that I misjudged you and, I'm sorry. I'll try not to be such a jerk to you in the future. I'm not saying it'll happen overnight, but I'll do my best." Padmé let out a long breath.

"That's all I can really ask of you isn't it." Anakin replied. "Now, let's get your car straightened out."

**Alright guys, you know what to do next…REVIEW!**

**This will be my last update until I get back from vacation, so I'll have lots of time to think and plot and get ready to update as soon as I get back. **

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**~Ink**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again everybody! Thanks once more for all the wonderful reviews so far! I'm glad you all like the story! I know I said my last update would be it until I came back from vacation, but, a week is a long time to go without an update am I right?**

**However, _this _update will be the last one before I get back from the Caribbean. **

**Enjoy!**

Anakin jammed the key into the lock of his flat, and opened the malfunctioning door with a swift kick.

"Jabba," He called out. "Door's broken again!"

"I'll get the handyman to see to it later." Jabba's gruff voice boomed from downstairs.

_Yeah, right._ Anakin mentally scoffed. _At the rates you charge, I'll be better off fixing the door myself._ With well-practiced aim, he chucked his backpack across the room where it landed on top of the table in the kitchenette with a solid thump.

Anakin had moved out on his own after his parents- Qui-Gon Jinn, and Shmi Skywalker- had attempted to monopolize their son's fencing career. _Good riddance._ He thought bitterly, flopping onto the couch and turning on the TV. He aimlessly surfed channels for awhile, before resigning himself to making dinner. The television's reception was spotty at best, and Jabba had never bothered to fix the satellite dish-which left him with a measly four channels: Imperial City News, Inside the Human Body, Motor-Vehicle Bulletin with Tru Veld, and some children's show that consisted of multi-colored blobs bouncing around and singing silly songs about numbers and the alphabet.

With a melancholy sigh, Anakin got up and shuffled to the kitchen.

Dooku allowed himself a relived exhalation as Wilhuff Tarkin injected him with a pain relief hypo.

"Idiot." Tarkin sneered. "What'd you let him beat you for?"

Dooku sighed in exasperation. "To give him a false sense of security. An arrogant opponent does not feel the need to practice; believing erroneously that their skills do not require improvement. Skywalker seems humble enough now, but once he's proved himself in the dueling ring, his prowess will go to his head, leaving me with a well-deserved turn at the preliminaries." He explained.

Tarkin smiled with malicious glee. "Do you want some help? I'd _love_ to take that smug little son-of-a-kark down."

"I was hoping you would say that. As a matter of fact, I will require your assistance to see my plan through to completion. Here's what we're going to do…"

Padmé leaned back against the concrete wall, sipping contently on a Mountain Dew as Obi-Wan and Mace tore up her backyard skate park. She tapped her board on the ground in approval as Obi-Wan performed a difficult trick on the mini-ramp.

"Front rocks 270 revert! Nice!" She hollered.

She couldn't see his face from the distance she was at, but she was pretty sure Mace had just rolled his eyes.

Mace took his turn at the ramp, busting out a few spectacular moves of his own.

When Obi-Wan attempted to duplicate them, he crashed fantastically onto the ramp surface. "I uh…I meant to do that." He said, massaging the sting from his elbows.

Mace smirked as Padmé walked over, having finished her drink. "Sure you did, Kenobi. I think we're done here, that was 'R' for you. You are officially a 'Poser'." Mace quipped.

"I demand a rematch!" Obi-Wan responded indignantly.

"Yeah, right. When you figure out how to take the training wheels off that thing, come and see me." Mace shot back.

Obi-Wan's mouth worked furiously, but he couldn't think of a good comeback.

"If you want to make sex faces at the fish, the tank is inside." Padmé added.

"_Oh!_ Double-burn!" Mace bumped fists with Padmé.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Obi-Wan mumbled dejectedly.

"Do you really want us to answer that? I have a whole friggen' _book_ full of reasons." Padmé jibed.

Obi-Wan ignored her and reached into his pocket to fish out his phone. "Crap. I'm late for dinner. I'll catch up with you guys at school tomorrow. Do you guys need a ride?"

"Nah, I'm good, I finally got my car." Mace replied.

"I probably will, my car's in the shop." Padmé admitted.

"Okay, what time do you want me to be here?" Obi-Wan wanted to know.

"Um, whenever is fine, as long as we aren't late." Padmé began. "I think I'm on Maul's hit list."

"Cool. I'll see you later." With that, Obi-Wan made his exit.

**Like it? Hate it? Review!**

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**~Ink**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys and girls! I'm back- and I miss the sun already.**

**What's up with you people? I slave and slave over a hot keyboard for _hours_ and I only got _two_ reviews on vacation! That's totally lame guys…I know you can do better.**

**I'm just kidding! Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed so far! And now, after a whole week with no updates, I proudly present: Republic High chapter 7!**

**But first- I own nothing! (Sorry, I just realized I forgot to add my disclaimer for the last few chapters.) All quotes from _The Empire Strikes Back_ belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd.**

**On with the show!**

Anakin suppressed an irritated growl at the unfairness of it all as he looked out the window, hoping for sunlight, only to find rain sheeting down onto the pavement in torrents.

"_Wonderful._" He muttered. Almost on cue, the ceiling began steadily dripping water onto his head. _Stang._ Anakin thought, and then went to get a bucket to protect the carpet from the seepage. _I really need to find a better place to live._ Anakin thought pointedly as he went about his morning customs, only to find that the shower was freezing cold, the water from the sink was scalding hot, the mirror had a few new cracks and the caulking at the base of the tub had begun to peel off. _Cheap druk._

Anakin finished his routine with the ease of a thousand repetitions, managing to make himself look presentable despite the fact that Jabba was to kriffing cheap to pay for any repairs. _Home Depot here I come,_ Anakin thought with a half-amused smile playing at his lips. He grabbed his umbrella on the way out the door and was just about to leave when his phone rang, a broken, disjointed harmony that sounded more like a dying canary than a ringtone.

Mumbling under his breath about telemarketers and horrible timing, he snatched the apartment phone from its cradle. "What?" He snapped.

The voice on the other end was timid. "Anakin?" It was Padmé.

Anakin took care to modulate his reply as he answered. "Sorry? I've had a crappy morning; I thought you were a telemarketer." He explained.

"It's fine…Listen, I know this is extremely short notice, and I've been a complete heel lately, but I was wondering if you could give me a ride to school…Obi-Wan said he could do it, but he's sick today." Padmé explained.

Anakin raked his fingers through his hair. "Uh, sure, that's fine I guess. I just need your address." He replied after a moment.

Padmé dutifully relayed the necessary information.

"Okay, I think I've got everything. I'll come by in a few minutes to pick you up." Anakin promised.

"Dude, you're awesome! Seriously. You have no _idea_ how much you're saving me right now." Padmé said emphatically

Anakin grinned. "Thanks. See you in a few."

"Bye." Padmé replied and the line clicked off.

Anakin replaced the phone, and headed out the door, locking it behind him. He almost laughed at the unnecessary gesture-none of the things he owned would get much on the street. Still chuckling inwardly, he headed out into the pouring rain and got into his car, shuddering at the fact that he could see his breath in the cold morning air.

The first thing he did as he started the car was to flick the AC controls to warm. Settling in to wait for the engine to warm up, he headed down the road toward Padmé's house. Traffic was moving along as well as could be expected for seven-forty-five in the morning and Anakin arrived shortly before eight o'clock.

Padmé was sitting dejectedly on her porch steps, a curtain of rainwater sheeting down onto the sidewalk from the eaves of her roof. She heaved herself to her feet, rolling her shoulders and slinging her backpack over one shoulder.

Her school bag was quickly shifted from her shoulder to the top of her head to protect her from the rain that was coming down in torrents.

Anakin leaned over the passenger seat to open the door for her as she hurried to the car.

"Thanks." Padmé said breathlessly, clearing water from her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

"No problem." Anakin replied, waiting for Padmé to put on her seatbelt before dropping the gearshift into 'drive'. As the heat began to permeate the car, Anakin also noticed the pleasant mingling scents of strawberry and mint. "You smell nice," He blurted. _Idiot!_ he thought.

Padmé managed a small smile. "Thank you. I'm not really into the girly-girl stuff, I hate painting my nails and I _despise _the color pink, but I do try to look presentable…I just don't always succeed." She admitted, gesturing to her well-worn hoodie, old jeans, and skate-shredded sneakers.

"I think you look fine." Anakin replied, almost reaching to pat her arm, but when her eyes flashed, he instinctively knew that if he touched her without her explicit consent, he would probably walk away missing a hand. With a furtive glance in her direction, he returned his hand to the steering wheel.

"So…are you doing anything after school?" Anakin asked.

Padmé's beautiful brown eyes narrowed instantly. "Back off, Skywalker. I said we could try to be civil toward each other, not that I wanted to make-out with you." She snapped.

"I didn't mean it like that. I was going to ask if you play any sports." Anakin clarified defensively.

"Oh. Sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess." Padmé responded quietly.

"It's alright. You were saying…" Anakin encouraged.

"What? Oh, yeah, I actually fence if you can believe that. I'm not very good, but, the only other extracurricular activity available for girls was cheerleading." Padmé explained.

"If you want, I could give you a few pointers sometime-not as a date though. It would strictly be two classmates assisting each other for the betterment of each of their skills." Anakin simplified.

"I might take you up on that." Padmé agreed, with a slight frown. "So what do _you_ do after school, besides fencing." She wondered.

"Well, I work at the auto repair shop- but you already know that. Um, I have my own place, but my landlord is a cheap slug who refuses to make repairs that cost over five bucks, so fixing up the apartment takes up most of my time. I was a skater before I started fencing, but I got into some trouble with the law and my parents decided that I needed a more…'constructive' outlet for my energy. That's why I fence. I've been meaning to start practicing again, but I just haven't had the time." Anakin admitted.

"Well, it looks like we can both each other out." Padmé suggested. "I'll teach you to skate again, if you help me get better at fencing."

"Deal." Anakin replied after a moment's pause.

The rest of the ride to MYA was relatively silent, ending when Anakin pulled smoothly into the nearest open parking space.

Anakin was quick to get out and hold the umbrella over Padmé's door to protect her from the rain as she exited the car.

"Here," Anakin said, handing Padmé his umbrella.

"No, it's okay, we can share," Padmé replied, pressing herself closer to him so they could both fit under the umbrella.

"This isn't so bad…" Anakin commented offhand.

Padmé said nothing, but pressed herself closer almost snuggling with him, inhaling Anakin's distinctive scent of gasoline and leather, before catching herself and pushing away, embarrassed.

"Were you just attempting to cuddle with me?" Anakin observed with humor in his cerulean eyes.

"Not intentionally I assure you." Padmé was quietly livid at the suggestion, her tone ice-cold. "I'm a girl, you're a guy, I have feelings, and sometimes I do things without thinking. I _promise_ you, it will not happen again." She said angrily. However, she didn't move out from under the umbrella.

"Whatever you say, princess." Anakin teased.

Padmé's hands came up to smack against his chest, shoving him away. "Why you, stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking, _nerfherder!_" She screeched indignantly.

Anakin's tone was mildly offended. "Who's scruffy-looking?" He asked.

Padmé didn't answer, choosing instead to stalk through the rain the rest of the way to the school entrance.

Anakin smirked and followed her inside.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. The _Star Wars _galaxy_,_ quotes, and references all belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd.**

**I would like to thank everyone for all the great reviews! Keep it up guys! I must say I really enjoyed writing the one-shot for Shattered-Destiny00, so I will extend the same promise to you guys: First person to review after this chapter is posted gets an A/P one-shot of their choice. On with the show!**

Padmé was absolutely livid. _Arrogant, self-righteous, know-it-all!_ She seethed. _How __**dare**__he even try to __**suggest**__ that __**I **__was attempting to cuddle with him. The nerve!_ She raged. She flopped into her chair, brown eyes smoldering with anger. However, the softer side of her personality-the one with _feelings_ simply refused to let her stew. _Well, he __**is**__sort of handsome…and he's nicer than most of the guys around here…he probably didn't mean anything by it. Maybe I should apologize._ She thought, unconsciously biting her bottom lip. Puzzled, she crossed her arms defiantly and stared at the whiteboard.

"You know, your face is going to get stuck like that if you keep scowling." Anakin's masculine voice intoned behind her.

Padmé almost flinched, but fought the impulse, clenching her hands into fists. She must have missed his entrance. "What do _you_ want? This isn't even your homeroom." Padmé demanded icily.

"You left your bag in my car. I thought you might need it." Anakin replied levelly, extending the object.

Padmé snatched the backpack from him. "Thanks, I guess." She mumbled.

"You're welcome." Anakin's tone was friendly, with an undercurrent that was equal parts hurt and anger. "I have to go. I'll see you after school-this week's practice sessions are it before the preliminaries that decide who goes to Regionals." Anakin explained, his clothing rustling as he rose from the chair behind her.

"Wait!" Padmé requested, louder than she'd intended, drawing stares from some of her other classmates.

Anakin turned as he reached the door, his face drawn and tired. "What?" His voice was sharp, which surprised her.

"I'm sorry." Padmé said. Her guilt prevented her from meeting his eyes; she was too afraid of what she would see in them.

"I know." With that, Anakin left the room.

Padmé tried to ignore the stinging in her eyes as she glared at the rest of her classmates. "What are _you_ looking at?" She growled, waiting until after they'd turned away to catch the tear falling from her left eye.

Anakin hurried to his classroom, still annoyed at Padmé's insolence. He had known it wasn't going to be easy to try and be friends with her, but a little appreciation every once in a while would have been nice. He'd been nothing but kind to her since he'd arrived, which was definitely more than he could say for her, save for the few private moments of reconciliation they had shared.

Still pondering over his muddled feelings for Padmé, he arrived in his homeroom in the nick of time, sinking into his seat just as the bell rang. _Is it really worth the -trouble?_ He wondered. _If she treated Paolo like this, it's no wonder they broke up…_ Anakin thought. _Still, I get the feeling there's something she's not telling me Sure, she's self-centered, and quirky, and extremely self-reliant-Force, I sound like a shrink. But, I don't believe she's that way by nature. She said she was Class President-I wouldn't have voted for her if she acted like she does now…I wonder what happened to change all that?_ He mused.

He thought back to their discussion in the auto-repair shop. When Padmé had tried to explain why she was the way she was, her story had seemed generic, believable, and safe.

Almost _too _believable.

Exactly the kind of thing you would say if you were trying to hide something.

_Besides,_ Anakin thought. _You can't spell 'believe' without 'lie'._ He sighed. _I'm probably reading too much into this-she's probably just having a bad day. _He took a deep breath and turned his attention to the back of the room.

In his office, Quinlan Vos, the school guidance counselor, reviewed his student psych-files. Currently, he was updating at Padmé's psycho-profile- a record-all students were required to have to help chart their growth as members of society.

Quinlan was pleasantly surprised- Padmé seemed happier lately. She'd reconnected with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Mace Windu after a particularly venomous falling out in her junior year, and she seemed to have taken an interest in the new student from Tattooine, Anakin Skywalker.  
>Quinlan turned to his computer and began to scroll through his previous entries.<p>

_**::Data Transcription from the records of Professor Quinlan N. Vos:: **_

_::Note- all dates have been converted from Galactic Calander Standard to Coruscant Time Measurement Protocol in compliance with Ordinances Pertaining to Data Entry Page 119, Section 6, Sub-Section 2b, footnote.::_

Username: QNVos

Password **********

**[Decryption Complete]**

**Welcome Counselor.**

**Psychological Evaluation-Padmé Naberrie**

_August 31, 2004_

_Today is the start of a new school year. I've had the pleasure of being able to meet with many of our new students, but one in particular seems to fit in quite well with the student body- Padmé Naberrie. I will be watching her scholastic progression with great interest._

_ September 3, 2005_

_Everything seems to be going well with Miss Naberrie as she returns to begin her sophmore year. She seems to have strengthened her relationship with two of her classmates- Obi-Wan Kenobi and Mace Windu. I sincerely hope she is able to continue to connect with her peers._

_ November 14, 2005_

_Padmé is doing spectacularly. She has been elected as Class President and shows no significant change in the way she deals with her classmates. I am impressed with her ability to remain practical with a view to the power she has recently gained. I look forward to following her advancements._

_ February 20, 2005_

_I must admit, I was very surprised when Padmé announced that she was resigning as Class President-she seems to be a natural leader. However, she enlightened me today, dropping by for a brief visit during study hall. She was visibly upset and said that she couldn't stand to be in the cutthroat world of politics…I can't say that I blame her. She also said something about trouble at home, but then she caught herself and clammed up. She left immediately thereafter, claiming she had homework to finish. I hope she's alright._

_ October 7, 2006_

_I for one am shocked. I happened to be passing by the student commons when I stumbled upon a very heated argument between Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, and Padmé Naberrie. Padmé was furious, hurling hateful insults and calling the two of them several very vulgar names that I don't feel comfortable repeating, even in a psych-evaluation. She claimed that they 'didn't know anything about her or her life' and should therefore 'butt the kriff out before someone else got hurt.' Several other choice words were exchanged, and the quarrel ended with Padmé striking both of them physically several times. She then stormed off, screaming that 'I hate you!' brushing past me in tears. In the brief glimpse I caught of her face, I notice several, bruises, some recent, some old, and a few scars on her arms as she reached up to cover her face. The last two fingers of her left hand were taped together, presumably broken. I attempted to comfort her, but she shook me off and stormed off down the hall, crying the whole way. _

_ While I would like to attribute this fight to nothing more than a hormone-induced fury, I can't shake the feeling that something more sinister is going on here. I attempted to question her about the incident, but she was very evasive, refusing to give a direct answer to the any of my questions. Perhaps I should speak with her parents…_

_ October 10, 2006_

_I met with Padmé's parents yesterday. Her mother seemed like a very pleasant individual. Her father was also very kind, but he seemed a little out of sorts, and was gruff at times, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Neither of them could think of a reason for Padmé's sudden withdraw from her peers. I thanked them for their time and asked that they keep me informed if there are any drastic changes at home. They agreed, and then left._

_ Padmé came to school today with a broken arm, citing a skateboard injury as the cause. She seems to be becoming more and more jaded, cynical, lashing out at others for no apparent reason. I pray that nothing's happened to her, she used to be such a kind soul. And perhaps I should tell her to be more careful on her skateboard-I didn't know she was interested that sort of thing. She told me once that she was terrified of such things. I wonder what would possess her to take up something that frightens her?-that contraption will be the death of her._

_ September 4, 2007_

_A new student has arrived, a transfer from Tattooine. His name is Anakin Skywalker. Padmé seemed rude to him at first, but I think she'll warm up to him eventually. He seems to be a very amicable young man._

_**::End Trascript::**_

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**See you next chapter, and May the Force be with you.**

**(Sorry, I couldn't resist.)**

**~Ink**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and the quotes form _Attack of the Clones_ belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd.**

**Seriously, you guys rock! I never dreamed that this story would become so popular. I figured that it would sit around, on ff.n, gathering dust and maybe one or two reviews when bored people happened upon it, but thanks to you, it's gained a lot of publicity, more than I'd hoped for. And, for that, I owe all of you a huge THANK YOU!**

** Chapter 9 is rolling in smooth, be sure to let me know what you think!**

Padmé hefted the sword in her hand awkwardly. It was heavy, cumbersome.  
>"How am I supposed to fight with this when I can barely <em>lift<em> it." Padmé sighed in exasperation. "This is your revenge for this morning isn't it?"  
>Anakin chuckled. "It takes practice to get used to the heft. It was awkward for me at first too." He explained stepping closer to Padmé. "Choke up a little on the grip, it'll make it easier to hold onto and it won't be as heavy."<br>Padmé complied and rolled her shoulders in relief. "That is better." She said  
>Anakin nodded as he stepped around to face her from the front at an angle where he could watch her movements but not be in danger of being hit by the sword. "Good. Now that you have the proper grip, let's see a swing."<br>Padmé raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but I warning you now, I might cut off something you'll miss later." She warned. She followed Anakin's instruction, but she was inexperienced and her movements were clumsy, unsure.  
>Anakin moved his foot out of the way, allowing the sword to clank to the floor beside stepped behind her again and grasped her arms gently, guiding her through the correct motions. "You're too stiff. You need to relax your elbows when you swing, a sword this heavy will do most of the work for you. It's kind of like driving car-all you have to worry about is the gas, brakes, and steering, the sword will take care of the rest." Anakin counseled, guiding her arms with a feather-light touch.<br>Padmè suppressed a wince as Anakin's fingers wrapped around the fresh bruises on her arms, but her swing never faltered.  
>"You see, you can do it." Anakin approved smiling. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"<br>"Not really." Padmè agreed.  
>The two of them practiced for a few moments more, until Padmè's cell phone started ringing. She glanced at the caller ID screen and her face went deathly pale.<br>"What?" Anakin demanded when he saw the color drain from Padmè's face.  
>Padmè took a moment to compose herself before speaking. "It's nothing, the phone just startled me is all. That was just my dad, he forgot about my fencing practice and wanted to know where I was." Padmè explained.<br>"Oh. Well, we can pick this up again another time. Do you need a ride home?" Anakin wondered.  
>"Do you mind? That would be wonderful." Padmè conceded gratefully.<br>After returning their equipment to the racks, the duo retrieved their things and headed out to Anakin's car.  
>The ride back to Padmè's house passed in silence.<br>Padmè's knuckles tightened on the door handles, bleaching the skin over the bones. Her heart felt like it was attempting to hammer it's way out of her chest. Her chest heaved, as her breathing accelerated, pace bordering on hyperventilation.  
>She clenched her fist even tighter, forcing herself to be calm and ignoring the creak of protest from the door handle and the sharp pops of her knuckles as they strained. She was satisfied to see that tightening her grip helped to conceal the fact that she was shaking like a leaf.<br>Once again, Anakin proved to be more observant than she gave him credit for. "Do you want someone to walk you to the door?" He asked, almost as if he sensed Padmè's unease.  
>Padmè's throat had tightened to the point where she was incapable of speech, so she nodded in reply.<br>The short trek to the door was tense, to say the least.  
>Anakin felt more like he was condemning Padmè rather than dropping her off at her house. So great was his sense of unease that when the door to the house opened, he instinctively shifted so he was in front of Padmè rather than beside her.<br>Ruwee Naberrie stood at the door in all his imposing glory, his beefy arms crossed. "You're late." He hissed.  
>Anakin leaned down so Padmè could hear him.<br>"I'll be right behind you the whole way." He assured her.  
>Instead of her normal vehement rebuff. Padmè whispered a quiet, fervent, "Thank you."<br>As they walked up to the door, Padmè gripped Anakin's hand unexpectedly, twining her fingers with his.  
>"Hi Dad, sorry I'm late. Fencing practice ran a little late." Padmè explained, not meeting her father's intense blue gaze.<br>Ruwee grunted in response, turning to Anakin instead. "Who the kark are you?" He demanded.  
>"Anakin Skywalker." Anakin replied, extending a hand.<br>Ruwee gripped Skywalker's hand in a bone-crushing grip. His squeeze grated the bones in Anakin's hand against each other. "You uh, a _friend_ of my daughter?" Ruwee demanded.  
>Anakin refused to waver. "Yes sir,"<br>Behind him, Padmè's sharp intake of breath was barely audible.  
>Ruwee's tone remained indifferent. "Good. It's nice to see she's fitting in. Now, If you'll excuse us, we have to eat dinner. It was nice to meet you." He turned to his daughter. "Go wash up for dinner."<br>Padmè looked up at her father with an uncharacteristically sweet expression on her face. "Can I have a minute to say goodbye first?"  
>"Sure, whatever. Make it quick." With that, Ruwee disappeared into the house.<br>"Thanks for the ride." Padmè said, clasping her hands behind her back. She let out a breath and then looked up at Anakin. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you...Can I have your cell number?"  
>Anakin pressed his lips together to keep his jaw from dropping. "Um sure."<br>The two of them exchanged information.  
>Suddenly, Padmè threw her arms around Anakin and squeezed for all she was worth. "You should go..." She said, her voice breaking.<br>Startled, Anakin looked down at her and caressed her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "I can stay..." he said, bringing his hand up to press Padmè's face tenderly against his shoulder.  
>Padmè sniffled loudly and pushed him away, gently. Her voice was grave. "I'm serious, you need to leave...it's not safe for you here."<br>Anakin started to object, but Ruwee poked his head out the door.  
>"You coming?" He said gruffly. The skin around his eyes was tightened.<br>Padmè nodded. "Just a second." She effectively chirped.  
>Anakin's voice smoldered, his tone serious, passionate. His blue eyes were piercing. "Promise me something." He said.<br>"What?" Padmè replied, slightly enthralled by Anakin's velvet voice.  
>Anakin reached over with deft fingers and plucked Padmè's phone from her pocket. He pressed it into her hand. "Call me if you need anything." He said.<br>Padmè blinked, surprised by Anakin's request. "I will..." She replied, unsettled by the earnestness in his gaze. "Please don't look at me like that." Padmè requested.  
>"Why not?" Anakin asked, puzzled.<br>"It makes me feel uncomfortable. I'll see you in school tomorrow." Padmè said as she gripped the door handle.  
>Anakin was almost to hid car when he turned around. "Padmè!" He called.<br>Padmè turned to look at him.  
>"Take care of yourself." Anakin instructed solemnly, and then he was in his car, leaving Padmè on the porch.<p>

**So what do you think? Good? Bad? Hard to understand? Let me know! Remember, first to review gets an A/P one-shot!**

**Peace.  
>~Ink<br>**


	10. Chapter 10

**Before I start my normal intro, it would seem that an apology is in order:**

** Dear Oli,**

**I'm sorry about the love scene, but this _is _partially a romance story…However, I'll try to keep the soppiness to a minimum. Padmé's change in demeanor is very important-if you re-read chapter one, it explains that Padmé already has a strained relationship with her family, she was being submissive and 'girly' in an attempt to avoid upsetting her father. She won't be like that all the time though- I don't want you to think I'm going soft on you or anything Also, I feel obliged to warn you, there will be an A/P 'rescue' in a later chapter, but don't worry-it doesn't involve fencing and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.**

** Yours,**

** ~Ink**

** P.S. If you get an account, it will be much easier for me to explain things to you…**

** Now, for the rest of you guys…If you're squeamish, you might want to skip the beginning of this chapter. There's nothing too graphic, just some descriptions of some emergency self-medication. Thanks a bunch for all the reviews- they were really inspiring. The story is now approaching a major turn of events, so you may want to reread some of the earlier chapters to make sure you are up to speed…This Fanfic does loosely follow Anakin's character arc from RotS but only for a brief time and only the key points. Alright then, that's enough chatter, let's get to the story. Don't forget to Review!**

Padmé slammed the door to her room behind her, panting. Fingers fumbling, she locked the door with a chain and a sliding deadbolt just before her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor.

With a choked gasp of pain, she began cataloging her injuries, vowing never to be late again. _Broken wrist,_ she thought with a muffled his as she lifted her right arm, her hand dangling limply at the end, wrist bent at an unnatural angle.

Carefully, she used her left hand to feel for other injuries, wincing when she reached the dislocated ribs on her left side.

She felt something warm and sticky running down the inside of her left arm and glanced down at it, she couldn't see too well though- her right eye was swollen shut. Grimacing, she peeled back her sleeve, swooning at the sight of the three-inch gash on her elbow. Dark crimson blood flowed from the wound continuously-a _lot_ of it. _Kriff, that's not good._ Padmé thought. Thinking quickly, she tore a strip of fabric from her shirt and tied it tightly around her arm two inches above her elbow. She knew she should go to a hospital, but they'd ask questions- and that would only make her father angrier.

She dragged herself over to her bed and pulled the red-and-white first-aid kit out from underneath it. Inside the box were matches, rubbing alcohol, a small metal container with a mix of gasoline and magnesium, a needle, bandages, several rolls of gauze and medical tape, two stiff lengths each of wood and plastic, Ibuprofen, Tylenol, salt, and a small suture kit.

Steeling herself, Padmé reached into the box. She first soaked up some of the blood with a gauze pad and then retrieved the metal container, matches and the needle. She struck a match and lit the flammable mixture on fire, holding the needle in the flames until the tip glowed cherry-red. With one last dab, she poked the end of the needle into the wound to cauterize it and stop the bleeding.

She allowed herself a moment to recover from the searing pain that zipped through her arm before retrieving the stitches and sewing the torn skin back together.

Padmé clambered to her feet, wincing again- she was pretty sure her right ankle was sprained too. Using her arm for leverage, she rammed her injured side into the wall, stifling a scream as her ribs popped back into place with a dull crunch.

Next, she took two rolls of gauze and some medical tape. Using her bedpost to hold the gauze, she removed her shirt and wrapped her torso as tightly as she could, securing the dressing with medical tape to hold it in place. Hopefully, it would keep her ribs immobile so they would heal.

Lastly, Padmé had to set her broken wrist. Resting her arm on the edge of her bed and holding it still with her right hand, she gingerly moved the broken appendage into the proper position.

This time, she _did _scream, muffling the sound with her pillow.

Once she had recovered, she began the difficult task of splinting her wrist with only one useable hand.

Padmé took the plastic lengths out of the first-aid kit; using her chin to hold one strip, and stabilizing the other with her knees, she was able to get some tape around it. From there she wrapped it expertly, replicating a plaster cast as closely as possible without actually using plaster. Using her teeth, she held the end of the gauze strip still and tied it off.

Finally, after affixing a splint to her ankle, a bandage over the stitches in her arm, and removing the tourniquet, she curled up on her bed and tried to sleep.

Anakin had been in first period for a while when Padmé limped in.

"Sorry I'm late," She croaked, handing Professor Yoda her tardy slip.

"Don't worry about it." Yoda replied, looking at her kindly with disconcertingly bright green eyes. "We haven't started yet."

Anakin watched her closely as she hobbled back to her seat beside him.

She was wearing sunglasses; Anakin was surprised that Yoda hadn't asked her to remove them. She was also wearing a loose purple-and-black plaid jacket, skinny jeans, and stiff looking combat boots.

Her face was drained of all color, and she looked like she might collapse at any second.

"Are you alright?" Anakin asked as she dropped into the seat beside him, trying-and failing to conceal a pained grimace.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She sucked in a breath. "I was skating a down rail at a stair-set downtown and I bailed. Busted myself up pretty good-even hit myself in the face if you can believe that-I tried to catch myself and slipped. That's what the sunglasses are for, I don't feel like explaining the black-eye to all the nosy karkheads that can't mind their own business." Padmé explained.

"Oh." Anakin replied skeptically. And then: "Are you sure you're okay? You look a little pale…" Anakin added.

"Yeah…" Padmé replied. 'Yeah, I'll be okay, I'm just a little tired-didn't get much sleep last night." She said.

"Padmé?" Anakin asked after a moment.

"Hmm?" She responded.

"About last night…What did you mean when you said: 'it's not safe for you to be here'?"

"Oh, that. My dad is very…_protective_ of me. He tends to go postal on anyone who he thinks is my boyfriend," She made a sound that was part chuckle, part gasp and then continued. "You should ask Paolo about that one…I was worried he was going to grill you to, until you shook his hand, Paolo was too much of a pansy to do that."

"I see…Thanks for clearing that up." Anakin said, still not entirely sure he believed her. Still, he decided to leave her alone- he didn't want Yoda to call him out for talking in class, and they would have plenty of time to discuss things at lunch.

So he would wait.

Padmé looked a thousand times worse by the time lunch rolled around, more closely resembling a cadaver than a human being. She had removed her sunglasses, revealing a wicked-looking black eye. She was considerably more pale than she had been during first period, and she didn't have anything with her to eat when she came to sit with Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Mace, apart from a bottle of water, some Ibuprofen, and some hard candy.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Anakin wondered.

Padmé shook her head very slowly, like the motion made her dizzy. "I don't feel well." She said.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan was all business. "Could you be more specific?"

"I'm fine, I'm just a little dizzy is all. I think I should've cooked my eggs for longer this morning is all, I'm a little nauseous too."

Padmé popped the Ibuprofen tablets into her mouth and downed them with a swig from her water bottle, continuing to drink for a long moment before resting her head on the table. Her shoulders rose and fell with her breathing, much faster than they should have been.

As she did so, Obi-Wan caught sight of her fingernails. Her nail beds were more white than pink.

His EMT instincts kicked in. "Padmé, let me see your hand." Obi-Wan said firmly.

Padmé extended her shaking hand. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead. "Wha- what are you doing?" She demanded anxiously, starting withdraw her hand

Obi-Wan grabbed it, startled by its coolness, and pressed down gently on her fingernail, scowling as the blood crawled slowly back into the vessels, coloring her nail pink again in ten seconds.

It should've taken two.

Obi-Wan felt her wrist for a pulse. It was racing.

Padmé sat up again, downing the rest of her water in one gulp.

"How many of those things have you had today, Padmé?" Obi-Wan wondered.

"I don't remember…" Padmé trailed off putting a hand to her forehead. She moaned. "I've just…been really…thirsty…" Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" She asked. With that, her eyes fluttered shut, and she slid off the chair onto the floor.

Obi-Wan followed a second later, kneeling down beside her.

Anakin was beside him in an instant. "Padmé? Can you hear me?"

Padmé was unresponsive.

"Did you see if she hit her head on the way down?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Not that I saw…" Anakin replied, unsure.

Obi-Wan knelt just above Padmé's head, and placed his hands on either side of her face, keeping her neck in a neutral position to avoid further injury.

"Okay Anakin, listen carefully. I need you to put your hands over mine. I'm going to slide mine out when yours are in the right place. If she wakes up, _do not_ let her move her head." He commanded.

Anakin nodded, and then complied with Obi-Wan's request.

As soon as he had done so, Obi-Wan began feeling Padmé's extremities, looking for injuries. There was a self-applied splint on her right wrist, and the left sleeve of her shirt was dark and wet around the elbow. Obi-Wan pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and sliced through the fabric.

"You didn't just see that," He said to Anakin.

Peeling back the fabric and the blood-soaked bandage, Obi-Wan's face went ashen. "Kriff!" He said, as he saw the crude stitches Padmé had used to close the wound. Crimson ichor was seeping from the wound streaming down her arms in red ribbons.

He immediately put pressure on the wound and turned to Mace.

"Call an ambulance." He ordered.

**Like it? Hate it? Review! **

**First to Review gets an A/P one-shot of their choice!**

**Also: **

**_Bomber255, _yours is in the works. It will be up either today or tomorrow as an addition to _Careless Preparation._ **

**See you next chapter!**

**~Ink **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: All characters and quotes from _Attack of the Clones _belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd. I'm only borrowing them.**

**Alright guys! Here comes chapter 11 of Republic High! In this chapter, things really start to heat up…I hope you guys like it, but I don't want to say too much because I might end up spoiling it…Slight soppiness alert for the chapter, nothing too major though.**

** Here we go!**

Anakin climbed into the back of the ambulance rig with a semi-conscious Padmé. She was hooked up to an IV drip, an oxygen cylinder, and a cardiac monitor.

One of the EMTs climbed into the back with Anakin and Padmé, chattering into his radio about tachycardia, dyspnea, hypovolemic shock, and a bunch of other medical terms that Anakin didn't understand.

"Where…am I?" Padmé gasped, sucking in air as fast as the supplemental oxygen regulator would allow.

"You're in an ambulance. You fainted. Obi-Wan thinks it was from loss of blood…" Anakin explained concisely, worried.

"_No._ No hospitals." Padmé declared firmly, fumbling with weak fingers to unbuckle the restraints holding her to the gurney.

"Miss?" One of the EMTs said, coming to stand beside her.

"Let. Me. Out." She growled, fisting his shirt.

"Sorry, miss, I can't do that."

Padmé's slightly glassy eyes blazed.

"Until you turn eighteen, your parents must make the final decision in your medical treatment. I apologize for the inconvenience, but you'll have to wait until your parents arrive at the hospital before we can release you.

"What if my parents are dead?" Padmé ventured, trying to keep herself from sounding desperate.

"Then your next-of-kin would be responsible for you. They'd have to be of legal age of course."

"He's my brother," She said, jerking her head to indicate Anakin. "And he's eighteen." She gripped Anakin's hand and squeezed.

Hard.

_Play along._ She was saying. Her chocolate-brown eyes pleaded with Anakin. _Please._

The EMT glanced at Anakin skeptically. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

Anakin's tone had just the right mingling of remorse and chagrin. "I'm sorry, I was a little distracted. Guess I forgot to mention that little fact."

"Are you willing to let her leave this ambulance, being fully aware of the consequences that could occur if she does not receive medical attention?"

Padmé's grip tightened further. _Please._

Anakin's little finger popped. "Yes." His voice betrayed a conviction and a strength that he did not feel. His conscience stabbed him. _She could die._

The EMT reached behind his seat and withdrew a clipboard. His voice was ice-cold. "Sign here." He said.

Anakin was pretty sure the words 'insensitive mudcrutch' followed that statement but he wasn't sure. Reluctantly, he took the proffered pen, and scrawled his signature across the bottom of the page.

The EMT fixed him with a steely gaze and then poked his head into the cab of the vehicle.

"Pull over, John. She's getting out." He said.

The ambulance coasted over to the curb and the two medical officials released Anakin and Padmé, driving off immediately afterward.

Padmé remained standing until the ambulance rounded the corner, and then leaned heavily on Anakin as pain stabbed through her ankle.

Anakin eased her into a sitting position on the sidewalk. "Do you have your phone with you?" He demanded, almost angry.

"Yeah." Padmé replied sheepishly, unable to meet Anakin's eyes. Quietly, she said: "Thanks for getting me out of that."

"Don't thank me just yet. You have some serious explaining to do."

"Anakin, I can't-" Padmé began.

"Call Mace or Obi-Wan first, and tell the we need a ride back to school." Anakin interrupted. "You can, and you will. I just helped you lie to a medical official and avoid a trip to the hospital when _clearly_ that's where you need to be. The _least _you can do is tell me why. I think I deserve that much."

Padmé finished her phone call, and eyed Anakin gravely. "I will, but you have to _swear_ to me, under pain of castration and possibly death, to _never_ breathe a _word_ about what I'm about to tell you. To _anyone_. Not the cops, not child services, not even your mother. _Nobody._" Padmé said, gripping Anakin's arm for emphasis.

Anakin raised his right hand, and placed his left over his heart. "I, Anakin Skywalker, promise never to divulge the information you are about to tell. Being of sound mind, I fully understand the penalties of such a violation of your confidentiality, which include, but are not limited to: castration and/or death." He vowed.

Padmé eyed him approvingly. "Thank you." She said softly. She met his eyes. "My dad beat me."

Anakin was instantly livid. "I'll _kill _him!" Anakin swore.

"No, you don't understand…you can't. Getting involved with him would only put _you_ in danger. My dad comes from a very powerful…_family._ He has some very powerful friends." Padmé warned. "Please don't go after him." She requested fervently. And then, she added: "For me. Promise."

Anakin fought to quell his rage, the fury-burn scalding his throat and searing his veins. "You're asking me to be rational; that is something I know I cannot do." He admitted, his voice shaking with anger.

Padmé gripped his hand. "_Try_. Please, for your own sake." Padmé

"It doesn't matter." Anakin said flatly. "How long has this been going on? How long have you been being abused?" He asked. His voice was eerily calm.

"That's not important…" Padmé wheedled.

"_How long_?" Anakin demanded in a sharp tone.

Padmé flinched at the bitterness in his voice. "Twelve years." She admitted meekly.

Anakin's fist clenched.

"I know what you're thinking. But if you go after him, the only person that will end up getting hurt is you. I couldn't live with myself if I caused something bad to happen to you. Promise me you won't." Padmé pleaded.

Anakin's voice was empty. "I promise." He said.

"Say it like you _mean _it." Padmé instructed.

"I promise." Anakin repeated with verve.

Distantly, a car horn beeped.

Anakin looked up to see Mace's pearlescent purple Eclipse parked at the curb. He reached down to help Padmé up and assisted her in hobbling to the car.

Mace's face was drawn. "You're being an idiot, Padmé." He commented as the injured girl crawled into the front seat.

"I tried to tell her the same thing." Anakin seconded with a scorching glare in Padmé's direction.

"Come on guys, you _know_ why I can't." Padmé reasoned.

"It's still stupid." Mace continued.

Anakin's frown deepened. "Will it be safe for you to go home tonight." he asked as they pulled back into the school parking lot.

"No. Not after the school calls him and says that I'm in the hospital." Padmé admitted.

Anakin thought for a moment. "How do you feel about staying at my place tonight?" He asked.

"Your parents won't mind?" Padmé asked hopefully.

"Nope. I have my own place. It's…complicated." Anakin replied.

"Oh. I'm okay with it if you are." Padmé decided.

"Good." Anakin continued, satisfied. "Where is your stuff? If you're staying at my place, you'll probably need to get a few things from your place first, right? I mean, now's the perfect time, since your father is probably at the hospital looking for you." He said.

"It's in my locker. The combination is left-right-left. It's 7-18-33." Padmé told him.

Anakin handed her his car keys. "Here. Go to my car and stay out of sight 'til I get back." He instructed. "Thanks for the ride Mace." He said.

"No problem, man. Take care of her." Mace replied gravely.

The three of them went their separate ways; Mace went back to class, Padmé went to Anakin's car, and Anakin went to Padmé's locker.

After retrieving Padmé's purse and backpack, Anakin retuned to his car.

"Did you get everything?" Padmé asked as Anakin started up the car.

"Yes." Anakin said, as he peeled out of the parking lot, speeding across town to Padmé's house. He circled the block a few times to make sure the coast was clear, and then pulled up to the curb in front of Padmé's home.

"I'll be right back." Padmé said.

"I'll keep a lookout. If I beep the horn, find somewhere to hide." Anakin warned.

Padmé nodded and went inside.

Anakin's grip tightened convulsively on the steering wheel as soon as she was gone. He was still furious at her father; he hoped Padmé retuned soon- he wasn't sure he could control himself if he was left alone with the man.

Padmé came back outside with a small suitcase and another bag, stuffing them in Anakin's trunk.

"Let's go." She said.

Anakin complied all-too-eagerly. Just as he reached the end of the block, Padmé's father drove up in the opposite lane.

He motioned for Anakin to roll down his window.

"Duck!" Anakin hissed to Padmé, who doubled herself over as quickly as she could.

Anakin rolled down the window, and forced his voice to sound civil. "Can I help you?"

Ruwee's voice boomed across the gap between vehicles. "You seen my daughter boy?" Ruwee asked.

If not for Padmé's confession and her current injuries- Anakin might have answered truthfully- Ruwee sounded genuinely worried. "I was about to ask you the same question. Word is, she got carted out of school on a stretcher during lunch. Have you heard anything?" Anakin responded smoothly.

"No…She's not at the hospital. Let me know if you hear anything, okay kid?" Ruwee requested.

"Sure thing." Anakin lied. With that, he rolled up his window and drove off.

"_Kriff!_" Padmé exclaimed, sitting up after they'd been driving for a few minutes. She winced and bit back a scream-all that curling was _murder_ on her ribs. "That was close! I thought for sure he was gonna catch us!" Padmé said breathlessly.

Anakin eyed her with kind disbelief. "Did you honestly think I would've handed you over to that _monster _if he had?" Anakin snorted derisively. "Give me some credit, Padmé, you know me better than that."

**Okay guys, Review Time! Let me know what you think. And sorry to Oli if the soppiness bores you…it's a romance, but let me know if it's too much and I'll try to tone it down. Don't forget to review.**

**Peace, out.**

**~Ink17**


	12. Chapter 12

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing. And I'm not making any money off of this. All characters and quotes from _The Empire Strikes Back _ and the _Revenge of the Sith novelization _are the property of Matthew Stover, George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd._**

**I'm back, baby! I'm just messing with you guys, but I _do _have a new chapter for you. In this chapter, we'll be revisiting two characters that we haven't seen in a while, and I might introduce a new character- I guess I should warn the Ahsoka haters now…**

***sighs* Here come the flames…**

**Also, sap warning- it's a default now.**

**Before we get started, I was reading over the reviews, and I think I forgot to answer someone's question (This is a long answer guys-if you don't want to read it, just skip down to the story):**

**From: Oli**

**Q: **_**One other thing-where's the humor side of this? I thought it was a parody?  
><strong>_  
><strong>A: You make a very valid point Oli. I do seem to have forgotten to add humor to the story- from a certain point of view. While I enjoy reading them occasionally, "crackfic" humor has never really been my style; I prefer to write my humor in wit or sarcasm. If you would like me to add some "crack-fic" humor, I'm sure that can be arranged; however, it will probably detract from the story.<strong>

**(_Cont._)**

**However, another definition of "parody" is: _to imitate poorly or feebly; travesty_. Put simply, I'm not George Lucas. There's _no way_ I could ever be that original or creative. So, this is just a weak imitation of Mr. Lucas' multi-billion-dollar brainchild. (It doesn't follow the original storyline anyway.) I'll try to be funnier though- I just don't go for the slapstick comedy.**

**I hope that clears things up!**

**Yours,**

**~Ink**

**Okay. Sorry about that guys, but it's only fair that I take the time to answer everybody's questions- it's no fun to read a story if you don't understand what's going on. **

**Seriously, though, don't be afraid to ask questions if you don't understand something. If I can't PM you, I'll answer you directly in the author's note that opens every chapter.**

**Here we go! Don't forget to review!**

_**For the people who skipped…**_

**THE STORY STARTS HERE!**

Anakin had just finished putting away his school stuff when the phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and groaned.

His mother was calling. _At least Padmé's in the shower…She won't have to listen to us argue._ He thought sullenly.

He picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Ani how are you?" Shmi asked dotingly.

"I'm fine. How are you?" Anakin replied kindly, though not without effort.

"I'm okay…that's actually what I was calling about." Shmi admitted.

"What is it? Are you sick or something?" Anakin couldn't keep the worry out of his voice- although she was conniving, and manipulative, Shmi was his mother, after all.

"No, but your aunt Beru was in an accident, and she passed away."

"And you didn't think that was important enough to _call_ me?" Anakin's voice was hard.

"Well, you didn't stay with your father and I, how were we supposed to know that you still wanted anything to do with the rest of the family?" Shmi sneered vindictively.

"That's not fair, Mom." Anakin snapped. "You two, didn't leave me much of a choice. What with dad's gambling issue, you looked to me for support instead. The money I earned from fencing is _mine._ I'll help out with the funeral if I must, but I'm not bailing Dad out again. That's his problem now."

Shmi was quiet for a moment. Her son grown up… "Are you getting enough to eat? Do you need anything?" Shmi asked.

Anakin ground his teeth. "I'm fine Mom, I can take care of myself. What is this about? I know you didn't call just to check up on me." He said, resent creeping into his tone.

"Your cousin, Ahsoka needs someone to look after her. She's twelve, and she's very well-mannered, but your father and aren't financially in a position to take care of her at the moment. We were sort of hoping you could do it." Shmi admitted, without shame.

"What makes you think…" Anakin sighed. If he didn't do it, Ahsoka'd probably end up in foster care. "Give me a week to get things ready." He said.

"Thanks." Shmi replied.

"I'm not doing this for you." Anakin clarified. "I'm doing this for _her_. She needs someone who will look after her and take care of her. Help her with her homework, make her feel good when she's upset- not use her as a cash cow." He retorted.

"I…understand. Thanks, Anakin. I love you, you know." Shmi sounded hurt.

"I love you too." Anakin sighed and hung up the phone.

Anakin turned, flinching in surprise when he saw Padmé leaning against the doorjamb.

She was dressed in a loose t-shirt and blue lounge pants, her chocolate tresses were twined up in a messy bun.

"You alright?" She asked, limping over to stand beside him. "You look upset."

"Yeah. I'm good. My cousin is coming to stay with me; some things came up and she needs a place to stay for a while, so I volunteered." Anakin explained, letting out a long breath. "I only have a week to get stuff ready, and I have _no idea_ what to buy." He lamented. He looked down at Padmé's self-applied ankle splint. "Let me get you something for that." He said.

Anakin went to his closet and rummaged around for a moment, and found an old ankle support boot from when he was younger; it was much too small to fit his feet now. He'd done nothing but grow since he'd moved out on his own.

"Here, this might help your foot feel better- it's too small to fit me now." He said.

"Thanks." Padmé replied, sitting down in a nearby chair to see how the boot fit. "  
>This. Feels. <em>Wonderful<em>." She sighed, the relief of stress on her ankle was ecstasy.

She wiggled her toes before standing- she was surprised to find that there was no pain when she stood. "I can walk!" She said. "And it doesn't hurt!" Impulsively, she threw her arms around Anakin's neck and squeezed. "Thank you." She said. "And, in return for your awesomeness, _I _will help you shop for..."

Anakin smiled. "Ahsoka." He supplied. "Thank _you_. I'd be totally lost…You know, I never thought I'd _need_ that extra room, but now, I'm glad I have it." He said.

"Alright, first we need to make a list of things we'll need. Um, how old is Ahsoka?"

"Twelve." Anakin supplied. He rummaged in a drawer for a pen and some paper before handing them to Padmé.

Padmé tapped her chin with the pen. "Okay. Has she um…_started_ yet?"

Anakin reddened as he caught Padmé's meaning. "I'm not sure."

"Better safe than sorry." She said, scribbling something on the paper. "Do you have spare sheets and things? And an extra shelf in the bathroom? And a place for her to sleep?" Padmé questioned, a slight smile crossing her face.

Anakin chuckled. "You are enjoying this _way_ too much. Yes to the first, no to the second, and the third can be arranged…I should probably go shopping for a bed though. I don't know how long she'll be staying. That reminds me…" Anakin made for the door. "I'll be right back, I have to go tell my landlord about Ahsoka…He doesn't like surprises."

"But we're not finish-"

"Afraid I was gonna leave without giving you a good-bye kiss?" Anakin snarked, turning to smirk at her.

Padmé scowled. "I'd just as soon kiss a wookiee." She snapped back teasingly.

_What the heck is a wookiee?_ Anakin wondered. "I can arrange that. You could _use_ a good kiss!" He ribbed.

Padmé gaped at him as he stepped out the door. A blush crawled up her cheeks at Anakin's bold suggestion. Belatedly, she shouted. "You wish!" in a childish voice.

Anakin's throaty chuckle floated back to her through the hallway.

"We're not supposed to be in here…What are you _doing_ anyway?" Tarkin demanded as Dooku fooled around with some beakers in the chem-lab.

"I'm making **V**olatile **A**drenal **D**istribution and **E**nhancement for **R**age. _Vader_ for short. It's a cross between a stimulant and a steroid-kind of like caffeine, but with a much bigger kick. It works best when you're angry; if you aren't when you take it, it _makes_ you angry and then jacks you up. Makes you a _lot_ stronger too." Dooku explained with a leer.

"I'm guessing this isn't legal…" Tarkin replied.

"Technically speaking, no. But only if we get _caught_."

"Interesting. Are there side-effects?" Tarkin wondered.

"Loads. Vomiting, emotional instability, fits of anger, violent outbursts, but only the first time."

"And you're going to take it before the fencing match?" Tarkin guessed.

"No. _We_ are going to give it to _Skywalker_ before the match." Dooku chuckled. "He'll be so faced he won't be able to fight."

"You do realize that if that stuff actually _works_, you're screwed right?" Tarkin pointed out.

"That's where _you _come in." Dooku said.

"Right." Tarkin agreed. "As long as I get my reward, I'm in."

Dooku's answering smile was almost predatory. "Don't worry. All credit will be given where credit is due." He said.

"It better be." Tarkin warned.

_This is a win-win. _Dooku thought. _If it works, I win, and nobody's the wiser. If it _doesn't _work, Tarkin shoots him, I tip off the cops, and I walk away scott-free, king of the school._ Dooku smiled.

And that is the fundamental truth: _Treachery is the way of the Sith…_

**Alright guys, feedback time! Let me know what you think. (Yes…you can flame me for adding Ahsoka if you are so inclined.) Remember, First to review gets a one-shot! And _Careless Preparation _is begging for an update!**

**See you next chapter,**

**~Ink**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. (For the fifteenth time…) All characters and quotes from _The Empire Strikes Back_ are the property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd. **

** Inception belongs to Christopher Nolan, and all quotes from the movie are his property.**

**I'm glad to hear that you all don't mind the addition of Ahsoka…I was taking a leap of faith on that one. As always, I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed so far, especially the new faces I've been seeing on the reviews page lately. Thanks guys!**

**In this chapter, we get to hear from a character who we haven't seen yet, although there have been a few questions concerning this person in the reviews I've been getting.**

**Enjoy! (And don't forget to Review!)**

"I just saw the news, _where is my daughter?_" Jobal Naberrie demanded, almost screeching into the phone.

"She ran off." Ruwee's answer was casual, apathetic.

"_Why_?" Jobal demanded of her ex-husband. "You beat her didn't you?" Jobal's tone was horrified.

"How the kriff am I supposed to know why she took off?" Ruwee countered caustically.

"That's _it!_" Jobal snapped. "I'm calling the cops. You're not going to get away with this!"

Ruwee's voice was filled with venom. "That's the last mistake you'll ever make, woman."

_Click._ The line went dead.

Jobal took a moment to calm her racing heart, and dialed 911.

Anakin followed Padmé into Wal-Mart, pushing the cart slowly.

The door greeter gave them a friendly wave, which Anakin and Padmé both returned.

"Okay," Padmé said, rubbing her hands together brusquely. She wobbled, and placed one hand back on the cart.

"We don't have to do this now, you know." Anakin pointed out. Padmé still looked deathly pale, and she was still much, much weaker than she should've been. She should've been in bed.

Resting.

Like a sensible person.

But, she was stubborn.

And so, here they were.

"Ah, Wal-Mart. The epitome of everything wrong with the corporate world." Anakin said in a faux-content tone.

Padmê smacked his arm. "Stop it. You didn't have to come." She said.

Anakin laughed. "And let you shop here by yourself?" A scoff escaped him. " Half of the employees would be dead by the time you were finished." He said.

"Aw, come on!" Padmé exclaimed. "Where's your shopping spirit?" She kidded.

Anakin looked at her incredulously. "What's gotten into you?" He sighed. "I'm a _guy_. I like action movies and Sports where guys beat each other senseless…Not shopping." He clarified.

Padmé sighed. "Dude, you're are such a _stiff_." She rolled her eyes, and shifted with jerky movements to face him. "Let's get this over with."

Their fist stop was the furniture department, where Anakin picked out a modest bed frame for Ahsoka. Next came domestics, where Padmé's sharp eye spied a nice, gender neutral set of sheets for the bed-Anakin, it seemed, had absolutely _no_ ability to shop for the opposite sex.

"I'm glad you came. I'd be completely lost without you." Anakin admitted as they strolled along, picking up some snack food on the way to the section Anakin had been dreading: The pharmacy.

An innocent enough department by itself, it was also where the feminine products happened to be.

"Uh…I'm gonna go look at the magazines…You'll be okay here right?" He asked uncomfortably.

"Yes. Fine. Go. Sheesh, guys can watch people tear each other limb from limb on TV, spraying buckets of blood _everywhere_, but show them a tampon, and they run screaming from the room." She muttered as Anakin backed away from the pharmacy in horror. "Really? You're just gonna leave the cripple here?" Padmé asked incredulously.

_If Obi-Wan and Mace were here, they'd never let me live this down._ Anakin thought. _I'm, so whipped. _"No," He replied, and went to stand with Padmé again.

After five agonizingly humiliating minutes in the pharmacy, the two of them went to check out.

Just as they were leaving, Ruwee walked into the store. He looked at the two of them for a moment.

Anakin grabbed Padmé about the waist and pulled her close. "Quick, give me a kiss." he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly arounder

Padmé mashed her lips against his when she saw her father over his shoulder. _Well, this isn't nearly as bad as I thought…It's actually kind of nice. His lips are so soft…_Padmé's thoughts muddled, Anakin's kiss was intensely, fervently, viscerally…_distracting_.

She came back to the present when Anakin pulled away. Her thoughts cleared. "He's still looking at us." She noted.

"Yeah, it was worth a shot." Anakin breathed. He gave her another brief peck, scrambling her thoughts again.

Ruwee stared for a second longer, and then continued on his way, shaking his head at the indecency of teenage libido.

"Let go." Padmé requested.

"Shh." Anakin hissed; Ruwee was still close enough to be able to recognize Padmé's voice.

"Let go, please." Padmé repeated.

"Don't get excited." Anakin appeased.

"Anakin, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited." Padmé lied.

"Sorry sweetheart, I haven't got time for anything else." Anakin smirked.

"You wish you were that lucky." Padme stomped on his instep as hard as she could with her boot-encased foot.

With a flustered huff, she hobbled out into the parking lot.

Anakin smiled an followed her out.

"Denial: It's not just a river in Egypt anymore." He snarked as he caught up with her.

"I'm _not_ in denial!" Padmé retorted heatedly.

"That's what they all say." Anakin countered.

"Yeah, well I'm not." Padmé's next reply was weaker that the first.

"Whatever, you say, princess." Anakin continued, and followed Padmé back to the car.

**Okay guys, feedback time! First to review gets a one-shot! I know this chapter was short and a little dry, but it's mostly 'filler' for the more exciting stuff to come later. Just bear with me; it'll get better, I promise.**

**(And yes, I know, _Star Wars_ and _Inception_ are in two completely different universes, but I couldn't resist. It's like, the best line in the movie!)**

**May the Force be with you,**

**~Ink.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters are the property of George Lucas, I'm just borrowing them. All quotes from the _Revenge of the Sith_ monetization belong to Matthew Stover, George Lucas, and Lucasfilm Ltd.**

**Alright guys, here comes chapter 14! Um, I don't really have much else to say, except... Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews!**

**On with the show!  
><strong>

Padmè's injuries were beginning to catch up with her when she and Anakin arrived back at his flat.  
>They put away the bags and sat down on the couch, flipping on the television for lack of anything better to do.<br>"How're you holding up?" Anakin wondered.  
>"I'm alright. My ankle and my wrist feel a little bit better; my arm's still pretty sore though." Padmè replied, rubbing the bandage on her arm absently. She took another sip of the juice she'd poured herself when they got home.<br>"Do you feel dizzy at all?" Anakin asked.  
>Padmè shook her head. "Nope. I'm just tired."<br>"How about your ribs?" Anakin continued.  
>"Still sore." She admitted, yawning. Padmè flopped over carefully, using the arm of the couch as a pillow.<br>The two companions lounged for a few moments, until a knock at the door interrupted their evening.  
>Anakin rose from the couch. "I'll get it." he said unnecessarily-Padmè was asleep. He crossed the room and opened the door a crack.<br>Ruwee glared at him from the other side of the door.  
>Anakin's grip tightened on the door. "What are you doing here?" He demanded coldly.<em> np<em>  
>"Looking for my daughter." Ruwee snapped back.<br>Anakin's cobalt gaze hardened. "And what makes you think she'd be here?"  
>Ruwee barged past Anakin into the apartment, shoving against the door hard enough to send the youth stumbling back. "Don't take me for a fool <em>boy<em>," He snarled. His voice sharpened when he caught sight of his daughter lying on  
>Anakin stepped in front of Ruwee, barring his access to his daughter.<br>"Get out of my way." Ruwee snapped. "You have no right to keep my daughter here."  
>Anakin's tone was filled with venom and scorn, his brow darkened with fury. "No."<br>Ruwee raised a hand to backhand the youth. "Move!" He roared.  
>Anakin's throat constricted, pulse pounding in his ears. Red fury crawled up the back of his throat, burning like acid. "Not while you're still breathing."<p>

Ruwee stood there, fuming.

"You have a move to make? I don't have all day." Anakin sneered.

Ruwee's fist was fast, but Anakin was faster.

Anakin reached up to seize the man's wrist, corkscrewing his arm until his shoulder popped free of the socket. "You'll find I lack the respect your daughter has for you; I will not hesitate to raise a hand to you. _Sir._" Anakin's lips tightened.

Ruwee doubled over panting.

A swift, sharp kick to the ribs sent Ruwee sprawling to the floor.

Padmé stirred.

Anakin crouched next to the wheezing man. "You may take your daughter and go. But you have my word: If I so much as _suspect_ that you hurt her again. If I even _think_ for _one second_ that you laid a hand on her with anything other than compassion. You will answer to _me_. I don't care about your friends, I don't _care_ about your connections. You're dealing with me now. I don't hide behind my friends…" Anakin lowered his voice, which somehow made him sound even more menacing. "And I have absolutely no problem, getting my hands dirty."

"You think I need your _permission_?"

Anakin hauled the man to his feet. His face was creased with rage. "I made your daughter a promise: I promised her I wouldn't kill you when I found out what you've been doing to her. You have no _idea_ the amount of self-control it takes for me to avoid snapping your neck at this very moment." Anakin took a breath, to calm his raging emotions. "Do not trifle me with your contemptability again. The next time you raise a hand to your daughter, _my_ self-control may not be so unwavering. Make no mistake- any harm that comes to your daughter by your hand _will_ result in your death."

Trying to hide how deeply thee young man had effected him, he gently-_very_ gently- shook his daughter's shoulder.

"Padmé?" He asked gently.

Anakin stood by, watching intently, arms crossed over his chest.

Padmé was catapulted into full alertness by the sight of her father's face.

"Anakin!" She shouted.

Instantly, Anakin was at her side. "I'm right here, Padmé. Don't worry, I won't let him hurt you."

Padmé calmed down a little, but her tone was still spiteful. "What the kriff do you want?" She demanded.

Ruwee's face softened. "I want you to come home. Please."

"I don't know if I can. Not after what you've done to me." Padmé countered

"That will never happen again. I promise." Ruwee said fervently.

"I'll come with you…" Padmé said slowly. "On one condition: I want to see my mother."

Ruwee's throat went dry.

His men were already on their way to his wife's house.

Ruwee smiled disarmingly. "I'll…make a phone call when I get home."

Anakin disappeared for a breif moment, before returning with Padmé's things.

Handing her purse, he bent down to whisper in her ear. "Call me if you need anything. No playing hero this time, Padmé." He said.

Padmé nodded subtly. "I'll see you in school tomorrow."

With that, Ruwee and Padmé departed.

Anakin eyed Ruwee coldly as he passed. _Remember our agreement_.

Ruwee swallowed, visibly shaken. He nodded, and left the room.

The black suburban barreled through the forest, tearing up the gravel driveway in a spray of rocks and grit. The vehicle pulled up to the small cottage, and four men in suits men got out.

"Alright men, Ruwee wants this done by the book. Let's-" One of the began.

Red-and-blue lights flashed and police sirens split the night.

Almost immediately, the quartet was surrounded by police cars.

"Freeze!" One office shouted as seven of his comrades trained their weapons on the would-be-assassins.

One by one, the men lowered their weapons.

A police officer with a hat and a neatly trimmed beard stepped forward. "I don't suppose you have a permit for those weapons, gentlemen?" He stated smugly.

The mobsters obediently got on their knees, hands behind their heads.

They knew the drill.

Go quietly; Ruwee would bail them out before the week was done.

From the living room window, Jobal watched with satisfaction. _Never mess with my kids._ She thought

In his cluttered office, Ruwee hunched over a stack of papers, ignoring the vicious throbbing in his ribs as he finished his paperwork for the night.

Skywalker had a vicious snap-kick.

The man smiled to himself-Palpatine would be pleased.

The kid was half-gangster already, and he didn't even know it.

With any luck, Palpatine would be running the town by the end of the school year; especially with that _Vader_ compound that he was working on-_that_ was some pretty heavy stuff.

A smile played across Ruwee's features- he had no doubt that he would be handsomely rewarded when Palpatine's rise to power was complete.

Groaning in discomfort, Ruwee popped a few Ibuprofen tablets, downed a swig of water and continued with his work…These bail papers weren't going to complete themselves.

** Okay guys, you know what to do next! Review! I have the next few chapters planned out, and I think you'll really like them! I just wanted to let you know, my new work schedule is more hectic, so I won't be able to update as frequently-, but I should be able to update at least once a week.**

**Thanks for all your wonderful feedback, I really appreciate it! Please keep it up!**

**Catch you on the flipside,**

**~Ink**


	15. Chapter 15

**Welcome back to Republic High everybody! Thanks much for all the great reviews! Can we shoot for 100 sometime within the next few chapters? I only need 10...**

**Anyhow, in this chapter we finally get to meet Ahsoka! And we're going to jump forward a few days in the storyline, just to keep things moving...I hope you guys enjoy it, don't forget to review!**

Anakin sat outside the gate at the airport terminal with Padmé, Mace, and Obi-Wan.

He was actually kind of surprised that they'd all come; there were more exciting things to do on a Saturday afternoon than sit in an airport terminal, waiting for a plane that wasn't going to let the passengers off for another ten minutes-they'd been here for an hour already.

Even more shocking, though, was the fact that Padmé had forgone her tomboy style, in the respect that she'd applied some light make-up and lip gloss, and she'd painted her fingernails-black of course, but still...

Padmé swept some of the hair that had escaped the sloppy ponytail out of her eyes as she eyed Obi-Wan over her fan of cards. Smirking, she placed two cards facedown on the 'discard' pile.

"Two tens." She said.

Obi-wan eyed her skeptically, but said nothing-the discard pile had grown rather large, and he only had three cards left in his hand. It was his turn next and he placed a card on the discard pile. "One jack." He countered.

"Liar!" Mace roared, flipping the card, to reveal a two of spades. "Take the cards, sucker." The dark-skinned boy grinned.

"_Son of a Nek!_" Obi-Wan groaned. "How'd you kriffing know?" He demanded.

Mace rolled his eyes. "You suck at lying, Obi-Wan. Your eye twitches every time you bluff."

Obi-Wan groaned in frustration. "You suck, you know that."

"Aw, wittle Kenobi gonna cwy?" Padmé taunted.

"Kriff you." Obi-Wan responded. He did a double-take. "Are you wearing lip gloss?"

"Yeah. So?" Padmé examined her fingernails.

"You're not going _soft_ on us, are you?" He asked.

"Relax, Kenobi, I can still slide your girlfriend when she dumps you and kriffs with your MySpace page. I got your back." Padmé grinned.

"_Stang!_" Mace replied drawing out the word as he bumped fists with Padmé. "Owned _again_!"

"I hate you guys." He moaned. He looked at Anakin. "It's your turn."

"One queen." He said, laying his last card down on the table.

"Liar." Padmé said, without looking at him.

Anakin flipped his card, revealing the queen of clubs. "Looks like I win."

Just as he finished, passengers began filing out of the plane.

Anakin stood up from his chair, holding up the sign with Ahsoka's name on it.

"Excuse me sir," One of the airport security guards walked over to him. "Panhandling is not allowed in the airport." He said.

"What? I'm not..." Anakin looked down at the sign in his hands

_Will work for food _was scrawled in sloppy Sharpie on the blank side of the name-card.

Anakin turned around. "Nice, guys." He grumbled. "Sorry about that officer, my friends were just playing a joke on me is all." He explained.

"Alright. I'll let it go this time, but if I catch you again, I'm calling the authorities." The man warned, and walked away.

Padmé licked her finger, and used the saliva to wash the back ink off of her fingernails. "Still got it," She said.

"Very funny." Anakin griped, flipping the sign around.

After about five minutes, Ahsoka emerged from the stream of travelers, and made her way to Anakin's side.

She was dressed in all black, right down to the paint on her fingernails. Her small shoulders were slumped forward. Hoping that nobody saw, she brought the sleeve of her sweatshirt up to wipe a way a tear.

Ahsoka was a little on the small side- standing at 5' even, she was five inches shorter than Padmé, who in turn was seven inches shorter than Anakin's six foot frame.

"Hi." Ahsoka said in a melancholy tone; she had just lost her father after all. "I'm Ahsoka...I guess I'm your cousin."

"I know you." Anakin replied kindly, giving the sad girl a hug. "You were just a baby the last time we saw each other, you probably don't remember me."

Ahsoka shook her head. "Not really."

"Well, you'll get to know me again before too long." Anakin gestured to his friends, who were still seated in their chairs. "These are my friends, Padmé, Obi-Wan, and Mace." Anakin introduced them, indicating each of them in turn.

Padmé, sensing the girl's unease, went over to shake her hand. "Hey Ahsoka, it's nice to finally meet you! Anakin's told me so much about you; I think we'll be great friends." Padmé slung a friendly arm around Ahsoka's small shoulders.

"Uh...nice to meet you too, I guess." Ahsoka replied, taken aback by the girl's friendliness. She smiled

Padmé stepped back and looked up at Anakin. "Do you need help getting her settled in?"

"I think I'll be okay. Tell you what, give me an hour to get things straightened out, and then you can come over and fix whatever I screwed up." Anakin suggested.

"Okay. I'll drop Mace and Obi-Wan off, and then I'll come by." Padmé agreed.

"Sounds like a plan." Anakin replied.

Ahsoka was quiet for the entire drive back to Anakin's flat.

Jabba greeted them at the door, but instead of replying, Ahsoka edged closer to Anakin.

"Your landlord creeps me out." She said as the two of them arrived at the door to Anakin's apartment.

"Me too." Anakin replied. He shoved the door open.

He thought he heard Ahsoka giggle quietly behind him, but he wasn't sure.

Anakin took his charge on a brief tour of his small apartment, one that ended at her bedroom.

"And this is your room." He said, gesturing to the modest living space. There was a bed, a dresser, and a small nightstand in the room with space for a few more small things- if Ahsoka wanted them. "Padmé helped me pick most of it out, I'm not much of a shopper."

"Most guys aren't." Ahsoka interjected, smirking.

Anakin rolled his eyes, smiling inwardly at Ahsoka's wit. "Anyway, we can change it if you want." He replied.

"It's fine; I like it. Padmé has good taste..." Ahsoka reflected. "It looks a lot like my room at home." She continued, dashing at her eyes. Her thing shoulders shook as she sobbed quietly. _I miss you, Mom._ She thought.

"Are you okay?" Anakin asked.

"I'm fine!" Ahsoka snapped, embarrassed that Anakin had noticed.

Anakin held up his hands defensively. "Take it easy, Snips. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He said gently.

"Yeah? Well, I don't need your help!" Ahsoka retorted bitterly, and slammed the door in Anakin's face.

Anakin stepped back in time to avoid having his nose smashed flat, but was too late to open the door before Ahsoka locked him out.

He sighed. _This is going to be harder than I thought. _

**Okay guys and girls, you know what to do next...Review! Can we shoot for 100? 'Cause that would be pretty awesome.**

**How's that for an introduction? I know Ahsoka might seem a bit sappy at the **

**moment, but remember she just lost her mother...I had a review asking me "not to make Padmé too much of an influence on the Ahsoka front..." While I'll do my best not to make it too gushy, Ahsoka does need a girl to talk to for some things, so there will be some interaction in that field- Anakin doesn't know everything, and he's not very good with kids for the moment... Padmé's was very much a tomboy at the beginning of this fic, but she's begun to soften up a little, and I think her 'maternal instincts' will come in handy. Sorry if this disappoints you guys, but it's important.**

**May the Force be with you,**

**~Ink**


	16. Chapter 16

**First of all, I want to say thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far- your support means a lot! Thanks everyone!**

**Just to clear things up, medical technology in this story is up to par with that of the _Star Wars_ universe. People can get prosthetic limbs that function exactly the same as their flesh appendages, and broken bones can be healed after a session in the bacta tanks. However, only rudimentary first-aid kits are available to the public for purchase-it encourages people to go to the hospital for definitive care if something happens to them...I hope that makes sense.**

**Also: SAP WARNING! (Sorry _MasterCheif2468_)**

**Now, on to the good stuff. Chapter 16 is next up, I hope you like it! Don't forget to review!**

Anakin had just finished making dinner- a Stouffer's lasagna, when Ahsoka emerged from her room.

She shuffled sheepishly into the kitchen. "Anakin?" She asked meekly.

Anakin turned to face her. "Yes?" he replied.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." She said.

Anakin reached down to ruffle her hair. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean it. I would be in a pretty bad mood if I were in your shoes." He said. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," Ahsoka replied emphatically.

"Well, I hope you like lasagna, dinner is almost ready, and I think Padmé might be coming over to eat with us." Anakin explained.

"Are you kidding? I _love_ lasagna!" Ahsoka exclaimed, smiling for the first time since she'd arrived.

"Good. Go get cleaned up, and I'll set the table." Anakin said.

Ahsoka nodded and raced off to the bathroom, blowing past Padmé as she entered the apartment.

"Whoa! Where's the fire?" Padmé wondered, sidestepping the speeding child.

"Hi, Padmé! We're having lasagna for dinner!" Ahsoka called out.

Padmé smiled at the girl's exuberance as she stepped lithely into the kitchen. "Hey," Padmé said, moving to stand beside Anakin.

"Hello..." Anakin trailed off as he turned, startled by Padmé's proximity.

Padmé hugged him briefly, and then surprised him by giving him a quick peck on the lips. "How's Ahsoka doing?" She asked.

"Well, she locked me out of her room earlier, but she seems to be feeling better now...I'm not sure how long that will last though." Anakin admitted.

"Give her time, she's had it pretty rough." Padmé suggested. "She's probably going to be a little depressed for a while; it'd probably be a good idea to get out and do things with her. You know: take her to the movies, go roller skating, maybe visit an amusement park, or something. Keep her occupied so she doesn't have time to think about the sad things going on in her life."

Anakin tapped his chin thoughtfully, his face puzzled. He wondered why he hadn't thought of that before. "That's a good idea." I might take her to Cloud City this weekend, the man who owns the place just built an amusement park there...Of course, you're welcome to come if you like."

Anakin leaned closer, his blue eyes tantalizing.

Padmé reached behind her back with her left arm and grasped her right, fidgeting in hesitation. "Are you asking me out?" She wondered.

"Well...if the shoe fits," Anakin closer, pressing his lips gently against hers.

Padmé's was perplexed at the sudden, visceral surge of _desire_ that burned through her veins. Not that she was complaining or anything, it felt _good_, but...

She'd never felt like _this_ about anyone before-not even Paolo.

Before she could stop herself, she was pressing herself forcefully against Anakin, deepening the kiss.

Anakin's roaming hands came to rest on her hips, and hers tangled in his thick hair. A quiet moan escaped her lips.

A short eternity later the two of them parted, breathing raggedly.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." Anakin replied, smiling.

"Wow..." Padmé breathed, her eyes glassy.

"You okay?" Anakin wondered, sweeping a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah." Padmé blushed, embarrassed.

She stretched up to kiss him again, but the sound of shuffling feet interrupted their intimate moment.

Ahsoka stood in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes as round as dinner plates. "_Wow._" She drew out the word for as long as her breath would allow. "I didn't know you were supposed to use your tongue when you kissed!" She exclaimed.

Palpatine allowed himself to smile. Ruwee had just contacted him to let him know that his men had been released from prison; but Jobal was still alive...That could possibly be a problem in the future.

If he was going to appoint Anakin as his protégé, he could not afford for the boy to be distracted running a mob was serious business. With his _Vader_ compound completed, Skywalker would be _unstoppable_. The boy just needed to focus.

Although the mob boss was ruthless, he was not stupid by any stretch of the imagination. The aging mobster realized that love could be just as powerful a motivator as fear.

_But,_ Palpatine reflected, _fear of _loss_ trumps them _both_._

With a gray hand, he reached down onto his desk and picked up the phone. With a sinister smile, he dialed a number and waited as the phone rang.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Ruwee Naberrie's voice came groggily through the receiver.

"I am quite aware of the time, cretin." Palpatine snapped. "You would do well not to question me again, you imprudent whelp. I have a job for you."

"My apologies, my liege. What is thy bidding?" Ruwee replied, fear staining his tone.

"I want you to beat your daughter again. Within an inch of her life. The time has come to set our plans in motion."

"But, my lord, the boy threatened my _life_, surely you can't be serious."

"Are you really so short-sighted that you don't believe _I_ can deal with the boy."

"N-n-no, my lord. I apologize." Ruwee struggled with the words.

"I don't want your apologies lout, I want results."

"Y-yes my liege." Ruwee stammered.

"Dooku will be there to assist you; tell him nothing about this plan. I will reveal his part in this to Skywalker personally."

"It will be done, my lord."

"See that it is. Contact me when you've completed your task." With that, Palpatine hung up the phone.

"That was _so _embarrassing!" Padmé said, dropping her head into her hands, glad that Ahsoka had gone to bed for the evening.

Anakin rubbed her back soothingly. "I'm sure she'll forget it before the week is out. We just have to be more careful next time." He said.

"Next time? What makes you think there'll be a next time?" Padmé wondered. "It was a moment of weakness, that's _all_." She fumed.

"Come on Padmé, who're you trying to fool? You can't resist me." Anakin observed arrogantly.

Padmé's slim eyebrows raised. "Can't I?" She challenged.

Anakin trailed a finger down the side of her face. "Nope. And I'll prove it to you."

Padmé's breath hitched at Anakin's caress; she hoped he hadn't noticed.

Anakin leaned forward to kiss the side of Padmé's neck.

Padmé's heart fluttered, but her face remained placid. "See? Nothing." She said.

Anakin grazed her earlobe with his teeth.

Padme shuddered as desire seared her veins. "You'll have to do better than that, Skywalker."

Anakin grinned and leaned forward to plant a passionate kiss on her lips.

Despite her resolve, Padmé's iron will crumbled in the face of Anakin's licentious liplock; before she knew it, she was kissing him back with equal fervor. She leaned into him, lips moving in sync with his.

Anakin teased her mercilessly, deepening the before pulling away.

Frustrated, Padmé attacked him with her own lips instead of allowing him a reprieve.

"See?" Anakin mumbled smugly against her lips. "Irresistable."

Before Padmé could think of a reply, her cell phone was ringing in her pocket.

Reluctantly, she pulled away to answer it.

Instead of a voice, she found a text message.

It was from her father.

_Come home. Now._ he had written.

"I have to go...I'm sorry." Padmé's tone was apologetic as she rose from couch.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Anakin said. His tone turned serious. "Remember, I'm just a phone call away." He said.

Padmé blew him a kiss. "I know."

With that, she left the room.

The sound of the door shutting had never bothered Anakin before, but for some reason, tonight it sounded too..._final_.

Attributing his unease to sleep deprivation, he retired to his own room placing the phone on the nightstand next to the bed...

A few short hours later, the phone's ringtone jerked Anakin from his slumber. He glanced at his bedside clock. The green numbers read 2:47 PM.

"Hello?" He asked blearily.

"Anakin..." Padmé gasped. She sounded like she was in agony, and her speech was slurred slightly. "I think I need to go to the hospital."

Instantly, the light was on and Anakin was on his feet, rifling through his dresser and grabbing the first clothes he touched. _This is bad..._He thought. _She actually asked to go to the hospital._

"Hang on angel, I'm on my way." He said.

He paused only to pick Ahsoka gently out of her bed, and then he bolted out the door.

**Okay guys! You know what to do next...Review! We're getting closer and closer to the grand finale!**

**As a side note, Jedi-Chick3, your one-shot has been posted...just thought you might like to know.**

**Don't forget to review!**

**May the Force be with you,**

**~Ink**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks everyone for all of your wonderful support. I can't believe this story's gotten 100 reviews already! Thanks again, everyone!**

**Okay, here comes chapter 17. This is gonna be good, I finally get to write the Anakin/Ruwee fight scene that I've been planning since the beginning of this fic, to be followed next chapter by an Anakin/Dooku and possibly Anakin/Palpatine fight, though I'm a little iffy on that last one...Don't forget to review!**

**Here we go!**

"Padmé!" Anakin cried, bursting into the hospital room. Ahsoka stood sleepily at his side, her face creased in worry.

Anakin's heart leapt into his throat when he saw the mess of wires and tubes attached to her, and for all splints that covered her, she might as well have been placed in a body cast.

"Padmé..." Anakin gasped, too horrified to form words. "_What happened?_"

Padmé turned her pain-clouded face toward Anakin, grimacing with the effort. "Dad...Angry...No boyfriends. Please don't...hurt him." She gasped.

"I won't." He said instantly, to appease Padmé-She didn't need anymore stress.

Anakin was appalled; it didn't take a genius to figure out what she was trying to say:

_Her father beat her for having a boyfriend...Animal._ Anakin's fists clenched, knuckles whitening as rage coursed through him.

Fury broke over him in red waves, its potency unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was almost painful to exist; the intensity of his emotions threatened to rip him apart from the inside.

He couldn't _think._

He couldn't _breathe._

He was drowning.

Anakin was so overwhelmed that he barely noticed when Obi-Wan and Mace arrived, and barely acknowledged the nurse's existence when she informed the four visitors that Padmé was going to be transferred to a bacta in twenty minutes.

He looked over at Obi-Wan. "Can you do me a favor?" He asked in a low voice, unsure of how it would sound if he spoke normally. Anakin could feel the rage scraping at the back of his throat like acid, and he didn't want to frighten Ahsoka.

Obi-Wan almost flinched at the sound of Anakin's voice anyway.

It didn't sound like the boy who'd become his friend.

It didn't even sound angry.

It sounded..._inhuman_.

"Sure, man. What's up?" Obi-Wan responded kindly.

"Nothing," Anakin replied flatly. "I just need some air. I'll be back in a little while...Can you keep an eye on Ahsoka for me? If she wakes up, just tell her I went for a walk." He continued, nodding toward the sleeping girl.

"No problem, do what you need to do. We'll keep you posted about Padmé."

Obi-Wan said

"Thanks." Anakin replied. Then, he got up and left the room, almost stalking down the hallway.

He was so consumed with anger, that he didn't even notice that Palpatine was trying to get his attention until he smacked into the man.

"Watch it." He snarled, looking up. "Oh, sorry Mister Palpatine, I didn't see you there." Anakin explained he bent down to pick up the water bottles that Palpatine had dropped.

"It's quite alright my boy...You look awful, would you like a drink?" Palpatine asked, offering Anakin one of his water bottles, smiling inwardly-both of them were full of _Vader_-tainted water.

"Thanks, that would be great." Anakin took the drink and downed about half of it in one long swig. He stuffed the bottle in his sweatshirt pocket. "It was good to see you sir, I have to go." He said, and continued on his way.

"Of course, my boy." Palpatine said behind him as he walked away.

Anakin's anger increased the closer he got to his car; he was shaking with rage as he slid inside the vehicle. He started the car and sped across town with reckless abandon, making a beeline for the Naberrie homestead. Anakin was even more incensed when he saw that Ruwee was not at his house.

Slamming the car door, he stomped around to the rear of the house and opened the back door. He made his way into the kitchen, taking a long knife from the rack by the stove.

The smell of coffee permeated the room.

Anakin poured himself a cup to keep himself alert, and settled in to wait.

He felt a little out of sorts, almost like he'd been drinking, but he attributed it to sleep deprivation, and settled in to wait.

Ruwee put his keys in the basket by the door, then headed into the kitchen for a drink.  
>He almost shouted in surprise when he saw his daughter's boyfriend sitting at his kitchen table, sipping a mug of what he presumed was coffee.<br>The boy looked awful.  
>His skin was so deathly pale that he resembled a corpse more than a living being; his eyes were red-rimmed, puffy, and bloodshot. His wavy brown hair was disheveled, and had lost it's sheen.<br>His eyes were closed as he traced the rim of the mug with his right index finger. "I warned you." He paused, gasping as a violent tremor wracked his frame. His voice shook with fury.  
>Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, revealing his burning, sulfuric-yellow irises. He stood, reaching into his pocket. "I <em>warned<em> you not to touch her again. I kriffing warned you not to kriffing _touch_ her." Anakin's breath hissed between his teeth; his lips were peeled back in a feral snarl. "But you just couldn't _control _yourself, could you?"

Anakin's fist came down on the table. His other hand emerged from his sweatshirt pocket, clutching a long steak knife.  
>Anakin laughed humorlessly, staring at the floor in an expression that was equal parts shame and anger. "I promised her...Promised her I wouldn't come." Anakin gasped as a spasm of pain rippled through his body, ravaging his nerves as it cannibalized his flesh to create strength. His yellow eyes seemed to glow.<p>

"But you know..." Anakin began.  
>Anakin didn't know what gave him strength, but, secretly, <em>Vader<em> seared his veins, surging through him in hot, fiery waves.  
>He cocked back his arm, the knife blade glinting in the light.<br>Ruwee gazed into Anakin's burning reptilian orbs.  
>He didn't move.<br>He already knew he was dead.  
>The knife tumbled end-over-end through the air, completing one rotation before burying itself up to the hilt in his hand, pinning it to the wall.<br>Anakin sauntered over, ripping the weapon free in a vicious twist-and-jerk.  
>"I've been having some control issues myself." He leered.<br>Ruwee howled in agony as the knife was wrenched from his flesh.  
>Blood spattered onto the floor; creating constellations of gore on the featureless tile.<br>Anakin's fist shot out, slugging Ruwee hard in the ribs.  
>The monster made of rage inside him rejoiced at the cracking sound he heard.<br>Ruwee stumbled back, gasping, only to be dumped to the floor when his body betrayed him; Anakin's follow-up leg sweep had shattered his ankle.  
>And the boy just kept <em>coming<em>.  
>A boot rocketed toward Ruwee's throat; only a hasty forearm block prevented his larynx from being crushed.<br>Instead, his left ulna and radius bones snapped like dry twigs.  
>Then, Anakin brought the knife to bear.<br>The blade flashed twice.  
>The first cut opened a three-inch gash in Ruwee's left arm.<br>The second cut sliced the other arm to match.  
>Anakin's voice carried a hint of remorse to the dying man's ears. The yellow in his eyes, faded, revealing the clear blue of his normal irises. "I'm sorry it had to be this way; but, I can't let you hurt her again." He said, and drove the blade into Ruwee's chest.<br>Anakin sidestepped Ruwee's feeble grab, and stared as the man fell back with a gurgle.

Taking the knife with him, Anakin walked out into the rain, hoping that someday, Padmé would forgive him.

**So...what do you think? Review and let me know!**

**See you next chapter!**

**~Ink**


	18. Chapter 18

**Wow, chapter 18 already! Thanks for all the great reviews guys! You're awesome! **

** However, before we begin, I had said previously that there would be an Anakin/Dooku fight in this chapter, but, unfortunately, that will be happening in on one of the next chapters. Sorry to disappoint you guys! I know...I'm a rotten person, but there are some things that need to happen first.**

** Also, it won't be in this chapter, but I'm thinking of making the V.A.D.E.R. compound a little stronger so Anakin can choke people with his mind...but it seems a little too "Star-Warsy" for my taste...Any input on that would be fantastic, guys!**

**On with the show!**

Anakin stumbled back into the hospital, limping visibly. His face was pale and covered with a sheen of sweat, but he was clearly furious; the _Vader _hadn't quite worn off yet.

He dragged himself Padmé's to room.

Obi-Wan stopped him from entering. "Where the _kriff_ were you?" He demanded. "Ahsoka's been worried sick. And frankly, Mace and I were starting to get a little concerned too...What exactly were you _doing_ out th_-_"

Anakin's voice was low and dangerous. "I thought you were going to tell her that I went for a walk." He interrupted angrily.

"Whoa, chill out dude. She's just a kid; she's scared. You can't just magic away her feelings, man." Obi-Wan paused to peer at Anakin's face. "Are you alright? You look _awful._"

"I'm fine." Anakin snapped. "Let me in; I need to talk to her." He said, taking a step forward.

Obi-Wan shifted to block him again. "Actually, I don't think that's a good idea at the moment." He said carefully. "You might want to take a few minutes to calm down first."

Before Obi-Wan could blink, Anakin's right hand shot out and wrapped around his throat.

"Let. Me. In." He growled, tightening his grip.

Obi-Wan's vision swam, black spots fading in and out as he attempted to pry Anakin's fingers loose. But he couldn't.

Anakin's grip was too strong.

Obi-Wan's salvation came in the form of a hospital orderly.

"Is there a _problem _here, gentlemen." The burly man asked.

Anakin reluctantly released Obi-Wan's throat. "No, we're just messing around. Sorry to have disturbed you." Anakin replied jovially.

"Alright," The orderly replied hesitantly. "Just keep it down, this is a hospital. Sick people are trying to rest so they can go home." He explained. Rolling his eyes, he walked away.

"What the _kriffing kriff_, Skywalker!" Obi-Wan replied in a harsh whispered. "What is your problem?" He demanded.

Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head to clear it. "Nothing. I'm just worried about Padmé. Can I see her now?" Anakin's voice still had an edge to it, but Obi-Wan believed his friend.

After all, they were all under a lot of stress; it was expected for some frustration to boil over.

"Yeah. She's resting now, but she'll be happy to see you when she wakes up."

"Thanks. I'm sorry about before; I don't know what came over me...That was kriffing weird."

"We're cool, man. Now get in there, I think you owe Ahsoka an explanation."

Obi-Wan assured him.

Anakin nodded, and he stepped inside the small room.

Mace had dozed off beside Ahsoka, who was sitting in her chair, biting her lip, eyes flitting between Padmé's motionless form and the door.

Ahsoka's tiny form blurred and suddenly something smacked into Anakin's chest, hard enough to force the breath out of him in a wheeze.

"You're back!" Ahsoka exclaimed in a shaky voice.

Anakin chuckled. "I missed you too, Snips." He said.

It was only when his shirt dampened that he realized she was crying.

"Hey," He said gently, sitting down in the chair so he could look her in the eyes. He placed his hands on her shoulders comfortingly. "Are you okay?" He asked

Ahsoka's blue eyes clouded, and her face crumpled, and her brown hair fell into her face. "You scared me." She said in a small voice. "I didn't know if you were gonna come back...I thought something happened to _you_ too." She explained.

Unsure as to whether he was doing the right thing, Anakin pulled her into a tentative hug. "Nothing's going to happen to me, alright." He tenderly brushed a strand of hair out of Ahsoka's face. "Did what happened to Padmé scare you too?" Anakin questioned gently.

Ahsoka nodded slowly, embarrassed at what she presumed was childishness-though Padmé's inert form would have scared anyone who wasn't paying enough attention to hear the beeping of the monitoring equipment. Even after her session in the bacta tank, the tones were still too far apart for Anakin's liking.

"Will she be okay?" Ahsoka wondered.

Anakin nodded, not sure whether he was telling the truth. "Yes. She'll be fine...Padmé won't be hurt like this, ever again." Anakin said.

Ahsoka smiled a tiny smile, appeased for the moment. "Good."

Obi-Wan, however, was less convinced. "How can you be so sure. Ruwee's not exactly a stable person."

"No, he wasn't. But that won't be an issue." Anakin held his breath, hoping that Ahsoka didn't notice his correction.

When she didn't say anything, Anakin breathed a little easier.

Obi-Wan had the good sense not to say anything verbally, choosing instead to shoot Anakin a probing glance.

_ What was that all about?_

Anakin met his gaze.

_I'll explain later._

Obi-Wan nodded, and then moved over to Mace's side. "Wake up, ya kark!"

Mace jerked upright, almost falling out of his chair. As it was, the seat tipped forward on two legs, balanced precariously for a moment, before slamming back to the floor as Mace relaxed.

"'The kriff, Kenobi!" He exclaimed. "Don't _do_ that!" Mace clutched his chest, clearly startled.

"Don't fall asleep when you're on watch duty." Obi-Wan retorted.

In her bed, Padmé cracked a smile.

**What do you think? Review and let me know!**

**Until next time,**

**~Ink**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. All characters and quotes are the property of George Lucas.**

**Okay guys, we're just going to jump right in. I'm running out of clever things to say at the beginning of these things...Sorry it took me so long to update, but my new work schedule is pretty busy, so I won't be able to update as often as I have been. But, I should still be able to update at least once a week, probably more if I can find some down time.**

**Enjoy!**

Padmé looked on numbly as the coroner gently loaded her father's remains into the ambulance.

_ Dad was a mobster...that certainly explains a lot._ She thought. Padmé reached up to dash at her eyes as the tears threatened to spill over; the fact that her father was a criminal didn't make the pain of his loss any easier to bear.

A few salty droplets trailed down her cheeks and she turned to press her face into Anakin's chest.

"I'm so sorry, Padmé." Anakin breathed in a half-choked whisper.

His conscience had already been beating him to death; the sight of Padmé in tears was almost enough to make him confess right then and there.

But he couldn't.

Padmé would never forgive him, he was certain of it.

As Anakin mulled over his dilemma, he was oblivious to the quiet creaking of brakes behind him.

Unseen, Palpatine stepped out of the car.

"I'm so sorry, Padmé!" The elderly man's exclamation was sympathetic and compassionate, but not overly so. "I just heard the news." Palpatine spread his arms, expecting a hug.

Padmé briefly released Anakin to dutifully embrace the man.

"If you need anything, and I do mean anything, _please_ don't hesitate to call me. I will do anything I can to help you, should you need it." Palpatine was saying.

Padmé sniffled. "I will. Thanks." She said in a watery voice, returning to Anakin's warm hug.

Anakin squeezed Padmé's small frame reassuringly. "It'll be okay. I promise." He said, stroking her hair.

Padmé squeezed back weakly, spent. "I know." She replied. "Are you ready to go home?" She asked. "Ahsoka's probably wondering where you are."

Anakin nodded. "I'd better get going. Do you want to stay at my place tonight?" He wondered. After all, it was the least he could do-he'd _caused_ this entire mess to begin with.

Padmé nodded, and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

Anakin gave Padmé one last brief embrace, and then turned to leave.

On his way back to his car, he passed a few police officers who were chatting, and he couldn't help but overhear them.

"How'd he know about this?" The one officer was saying with a suspicious glance in Palpatine's direction as the principal drove away.

"I have no idea. We haven't even released a press statement yet." His comrade said, nonplussed as he stared after the retreating Rolls Royce.

_*****RH*****_

"How is Padmé doing?" Obi-Wan asked as Anakin entered the apartment; he'd agreed to watch over Ahsoka while Anakin went to check on Padmé after the devastating news of her father's death.

Anakin shrugged wearily. "She was pretty shaken up. Can't say I blame her..." Anakin sighed as he came into the kitchen, where Ahsoka was doing some homework.

"Hi," Ahsoka said without looking up from her work.

"Hey Snips, how's the homework coming along?" Anakin wondered.

Ahsoka popped her gum. "'S fine." She said, still absorbed into her assignment.

"Do you want to take a break?" He asked.

"Look, I'm fine, alright?. Just let me be." Ahsoka almost snapped.

"Alright, alright, calm down." Anakin replied defensively following Obi-Wan out into the living room.

"Has she been like this the whole time?" He queried.

Obi-Wan nodded. "It's no big deal. Everybody has their own way of coping when bad things happen. Some people get mean, other people mope, and some people eat chocolate..." Obi-Wan looked vaguely guilty after his last addition. "Don't judge me!" He said.

Anakin resisted the impulse to chuckle. "I see what you mean. Whatever this is, I hope she snaps out of it fast. I don't like her attitude."

"Give it time. She'll probably be back to normal in a day or so, she just needs time to adjust." Obi-Wan advised.

"Sure." Anakin replied placidly as Obi-Wan made for the door. "See you later."

"See you, man. Keep it real." Obi-Wan answered smoothly before strolling out.

"I will." Anakin replied. _Whatever that means..._ He went back into the kitchen to check on Ahsoka's progress.

"Snips?" He asked.

"Hmm?" Ahsoka replied, looking up at him.

"Padmé is probably going to be staying with us for a few days; she won't be allowed back into her house until the police finish their investigations." Anakin told her.

"Okay. That's cool. Whatever." Ahsoka replied calmly, and turned back to her work.

"Do you need any help with that?" Anakin asked, motioning to the white sheet of paper; Ahsoka's calculations were scribbled all over her scratch paper. He hoped she'd say yes, he needed something to distract him from the raging guilt inside him.

"No, I'll be okay. This stuff's easy." Ahsoka answered.

Anakin's face fell. "Oh. Let me know if you need anything." Anakin said, and shuffled into the living room to watch television.

_*****RH*****_

Most people would have found Palpatine's private office eerie.

That is, if they were ever allowed inside.

The room was small, dimly lit, and festooned with various ancient artifacts, most of them scrolls or books.

_Everything is going according to plan._ Palpatine thought as he sank into his luxurious desk chair. _By forcing, Padmé's father to beat her, she has learned fear, and hatred. With the refinement of _Vader_, she will soon see the same traits in Anakin, prompting her to leave his side._

_ Once that miserable creature is no longer a thorn in Skywalker's side, the boy will be able to focus on his training. He will become the perfect heir, the ideal successor, the Chosen One...to inherit my Empire and rule the earth with an iron fist._

An odd urge to chuckle swept Palpatine up, but he dismissed it; hubris was not his style. He was a refined, elegant, stately man, and he would conduct himself as such, even in private.

However, a small smile crept across his withered lips, his teeth glinting yellow in the faint light. He took a sip of water, and his eyes glared an effervescent yellow as the _Vader_ took hold of him.

Palpatine steepled his long, bony fingers. _Yes...everything is going as planned._

**Thoughts anyone? Don't forget to Review!**

**Until next time,**

**~Ink**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thanks for all the great reviews guys! Here comes chapter 20! We've come a long way everybody! The finish line is in sight! I hope you guys enjoy the next chapter!**

Padmé raised an unsteady hand to knock on the door to Anakin's apartment.

Anakin answered the door almost immediately, holding the heavy wooden construct open with his foot so he could help Padmé with her bags. His hair was sticking up in every conceivable direction, he looked like he'd just gotten out of bed.

Padmé glanced tried to see the clock over Anakin's shoulder, but he was too tall for her to see the whole timepiece-from what she could glimpse, he probably had. Padmé had the good grace to blush.

"Sorry I'm late. My mother called, she's on her way from Naboo for dad's funeral. It'll probably take a few days for her to get here...do you mind if I stay with you and Ahsoka until she does?" Padmé wondered.

Anakin's mouth quirked in confusion. "Sure." He smiled roguishly. "Did you think I would mind?"

Padmé shook her head and yawned. "I'm not worried about _me_." She sighed and stepped inside. "I'm worried about _you._..As much as my father was abusive, my _mother_ is overprotective. I'm kinda concerned about your well-being." Padmé raised an eyebrow.

Anakin's eyebrows dipped. "_Oh_," His mouth went round. He blew out a long sigh. "Let's just cross that bridge when we get there, alright?"

"Sounds like a plan." Padmé yawned hefted one of her bags. "Shall we?"

Anakin grinned and helped Padmé haul her luggage into his room.

Once they had finished, Padmé sat down on his bed. She frowned. "Where are you going to sleep?" She wondered.

"On the couch." Anakin replied.

Padmé pouted. "But that seems so..._uncomfortable._ I was thinking we could share..."

Anakin leaned down to kiss her on the lips gently, almost teasing. "As good as that sounds, Ahsoka would probably be creeped-out if she saw. Remember what happened last time?"

Padmé blushed. "How could I forget?" She responded, and kissed him back.

"I don't hear any talking in there!" Ahsoka commented

Padmé laughed. "We'll be out in a second." She yawned.

Anakin brushed her hair out of her face. "You look exhausted." He said.

Padmé leaned back on the bed and Anakin laid down beside her. "I am," She admitted, scooting over so she could rest her head on Anakin's chest.

Anakin stroked her hair, his hand trailing down her spine and coming to rest at the small of her back.

"I think...I'm just gonna rest my eyes...for a minute." Padmé yawned deeply, and shut her eyes.

Anakin reached down and pulled the blanket over the two of them, intending to catch a little catnap himself.

Before he could help himself, he was asleep.

_*****RH*****_

"Again!" Dooku said tersely, glaring at Tarkin as the boy lay splayed on the floor in front of him, his sword three feet from his outstretched hand.

Tarkin gasped with exhaustion, his face covered in a sheen of sweat. "Maybe," He paused to catch his breath. "Maybe we should take a break." He suggested.

"No." Dooku snapped, hauling Tarkin to his feet. "I have to be ready. My whole _future_ is riding on winning this match. I _need_ to _win. _My _life depends _on the outcome of tomorrow's match." He growled.

"Whoa! Easy on the arm, man. You might want to take it easy on the _Vader_, dude. If Coach finds out you're hitting steroids, you'll get kicked off the team." Tarkin warned, massaging the ache out of his shoulder.

Dooku's yellow eyes flashed. "_I _will decide when it is appropriate to dispense with the _Vader_, Tarkin. Now, are you going to help me practice or not?"

Tarkin gingerly retrieved his sword, hefting the suddenly heavy weapon, only to have the sword blasted from his hand by Dooku's overpowering strike. The powerful overhand sent Tarkin sprawling to the floor again, sword slipping from numb fingers.

"_Again!_" Dooku roared, the sound echoed through the empty gymnasium.

_*****RH*****_

From the shadows above the bleachers, Palpatine stared down at the two combatants, his _Vader_ compound worked even better than he'd hoped. But, the true test of it's effectiveness wouldn't take place until tomorrow.

Smiling, Palpatine sat down in an empty seat to watch the display below-Dooku had certainly been practicing, that much was clear. The _Vader_ didn't hurt either.

When Tarkin went sprawling to the ground under Dooku's powerful chop, Palpatine stared at the boy; Dooku would make a fine successor as well...

All would be decided in the final round of preliminaries.

Anakin with his obvious skill and prowess, honed from years of competitive fencing, was a shoe-in for one spot in the final bracket.

And, with the assistance of _Vader_, Dooku would be as well.

This was going to be interesting...

**Yeah, I know, this one's short too, but it'll be worth it, I promise. Next chapter is the Anakin/Dooku fight we've all been waiting for! I really think you'll like it, guys. Don't forget to Review! Careless Preparation is in _serious_ need of an update.**

**Yours,**

**~Ink**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and quotes from the _Revenge of the Sith_ novelization are the property of Matthew Stover and George Lucas.**

**Prepare yourselves...This is the moment you've all been waiting for! (Yeah, I know, that was _really_ cliché, but I couldn't help myself.) We finally get to see the Anakin/Dooku fight! This chapter will probably be a little longer than usual, a lot has to happen to set up the sequel. (Yes there will be a sequel.)**

**Just a warning, the tense changes in the middle of the post from past-tense to present-tense. It makes it more dramatic, and I'll probably end up writing the sequel in present tense also.**

**Here comes the Grand Finale, I hope you guys enjoy it!**

"Oh, _Force_ that's _disgusting_!" Ahsoka's huffed in disgust and fled from Anakin's room.

"It's not what it looks like!" Anakin protested, hopping after Ahsoka as he attempted to pull on a clean pair of pants-he'd fallen asleep in his clothes.

"You were _sharing the bed!_" Ahsoka countered. "_Together. Under_ the covers." Ahsoka was appalled. "How is that _not_ what it looks like?"

Anakin was at a loss; how was he going to explain _this_?

Thankfully, Padmé came to his rescue. "We still have our clothes from yesterday on, Ahsoka." She said. "Don't you think that if we were doing..._that_ we wouldn't have bothered to wear any clothes?"

Ahsoka frowned in thought. A scowl rippled across her face. "Fine. Whatever. It's still gross." She said.

Satisfied that his cousin no longer thought him a creep, Anakin shut the door to finish changing. He turned to Padmé, a sheepish grin plastered on his face. "Kids," He offered with a noncommittal shrug.

Padmé rolled her eyes. "Maybe you should consider locking the door next time." She said.

_*****RH*****_

Dooku snatched another water bottle from the mini-fridge in Palpatine's office. He sat down, had the cap unscrewed and half the bottle chugged in seconds.

"Be careful, that mix is significantly more potent than the blend you've been consuming-one bottle will suffice." Palpatine cautioned.

Dooku acknowledged Palpatine's warning with a curt grunt as he finished the beverage, his dark eyes morphing to a reptilian yellow.

"I thought you wanted me to beat Skywalker? Does it really matter how much I take?" Dooku wondered.

"Yes, I do wish for you to be victorious in today's match; but you'll be no use to me dead." Palpatine counseled.

Dooku blanched. "Dead?" He wondered.

Palpatine's yellow gaze hardened. "Follow my instructions, and everything will be fine. I need you to trust me, _my apprentice_."

Dooku felt a thrill of pride. Palpatine had picked _him_. Over _Skywalker._ Now he _had_ to win. "I understand Boss. I won't let you down."

"See that you don't" Palpatine sneered.

Dooku nodded, rose from his chair, and stepped lithely from the room.

_*****RH*****_

"Sir, I think you should see this." Boba approached his father Jango Fett, Police Chief of Galactic City, and lead investigator on the Ruwee Naberrie murder case.

"What is it, son?" Jango asked.

Boba rolled his eyes. "We're in the field, Dad. It's officer Fett." He sighed. "One of the steak knives in the kitchen is missing, and the fingerprints on the coffee mug in the kitchen don't belong to the victim." Boba explained.

"Well, that means someone else was in the house with him. We might have our , killer. Have you matched the prints yet?" Jango responded.

Boba sighed again. "Give me some credit Dad. I'm not totally useless...The prints belong to Anakin Skywalker. He just moved here from Tatooine about three months ago; he's been attending school at Master Yoda's Academy for Boys and Girls since school started up again last week." He explained. "What are we still doing here then?" Boba wondered.

"Slow down, _officer_ Fett. Just because his prints are in the room, doesn't mean he was the killer. We can still bring him in for questioning; but we can't accuse him of _anything _until we find the murder weapon. If the prints on the weapon match the prints on the cup match the prints on the mug, then we'll talk." Jango reasoned.

Boba held up an evidence bag, containing a bloodstained steak knife. "And if they do?"

Jango was instantly serious. "Pack up your men, and your supplies. We're leaving."

_*****RH*** **_

Anakin took another swig from the water bottle Palpatine had given him outside the gym-his throat was dry, nothing to worry about; just normal pre-fight nerves. He took a deep breath to calm himself-he had nothing to worry about.

Except for the fact that he hadn't practiced.

At all.

For _weeks_.

_I'm done for._ Anakin thought resignedly. As he watched Dooku's most recent victim limp off the mat. As much as he hated to admit it, Anakin was impressed; Dooku had systematically _destroyed_ all of his competition-even the better fighters, like Obi-Wan and Mace-with almost no effort at all.

Before he could begin to wallow in self-doubt, the announcer was calling his name.

"And now...you know him, you love him, ladies and gentlemen: Give it up for the one, the only, _Anakin Skywalker!_"

The gymnasium erupted in cheers and shouts and whistles as Anakin rose and took his place on the mat across from Dooku.

This is the end of Nelvin Dooku:

Anakin takes his place on the mat, his sword in that same deceptively relaxed position that is his tried-and-true stance.

A simple taunt is all it takes to set Anakin's brain alive with fury:

_Padmé deserved it._

Anakin doesn't take the time to wonder how on earth Dooku knows; because that would be impossible. He simply _can't _ know. It's just not _feasible_.

But somehow, he does.

That's all that matters.

Anakin is on him in an eyeblink, his silver blade flashing and ringing and crashing, driving Dooku back across the mat.

_Vader_ does most of the work, lending Anakin strength he doesn't have, reflexes bordering on inhuman.

Dooku backs carefully across the mat, his parries and ripostes meticulous. Outwardly, he is calm, but inwardly, he has an entirely unfounded, completely ludicrous, and yet entirely distressing _bad feeling about this_.

He ripostes another lightning-fast strike from Skywalker, and then retaliates with an impressive flurry of his own.

Almost contemptuously, Anakin takes a half-step back, cocking his left-arm back to deliver another blow.

That's when Dooku realizes that he's _really _in trouble-an ambidextrous swordsman is a very dangerous opponent.

But, Anakin's left hand is his off-hand, and the strike is a little slower in its delivery.

Dooku seizes his opportunity with a sweeping upward hack, intending to cleave Skywalker's arm from his body.

Sword meets arm with a sickening crunch, and Anakin's left arm flops uselessly over Dooku's blade, grievously broken.

The gym erupts in squeals of horror.

Cin Drallig steps onto the mat, screaming for the boys to stop, but they are too far gone to hear him.

Anakin ducks under Dooku's next attack, unfazed by the loss of an arm. He retrieves his sword and sends Dooku stumbling with a high kick.

Anakin steps forward at the same time as Dooku, both of them delivering a thrust with the force of a freight train.

A crash echoes through the gym.

Dooku's sword spirals into the air.

The shining weapon flips almost in slow motion.

Impossibly, Anakin's shattered left arm reaches out to catch it, at the same time as his snap-kick drives Dooku back another step

The red hate-smoke of his fury dissolves, and in that instant, everything is clear.

In that pristine clarity, there is only one thing he must do.

Decide.

So he does.

He decides to _win._

He decides that Dooku should lose the same hand that he took. Decision is reality here: his blade moves simultaneously with his will, and silver ice obliterates the suddenly flimsly armor, and disintegrates flesh and shears bone, and away falls Dooku's weapon arm, weeping ichor that stains the floor with the death of his dreams.

The sword twirls one last time before slapping solidly into Anakin's left hand.

And then he takes Dooku's other arm as well.

Dooku crumples to his knees, face blank, mouth slack, as he finds two blades crossed at his throat.

As he looks up into the eyes of Anakin Skywalker one final time finding Palpatine's grimly approving smirk behind him, Nelvin Dooku knows that he has been deceived, not just today, but for many, many years. That he has never been the true apprentice. He has been only a tool.

He has existed only for this.

This.

To be the victim of Anakin Skywalker's first cold-blooded murder.

First but not, he knows, the last.

Then the blades at his throat uncross like scissors.

Snip.

And all of him becomes nothing at all.

_*****RH*****_

Padmé stares in horror at her boyfriend, jerked from her stupor only when the GCPD bursts into the gymnasium.

"Freeze!" The command echoes in the room as one of the men tackles Anakin bodily to the ground.

Blankly, she thinks: _What?_

And then, in twelve simple words, her universe comes crashing down around her ears.

"Anakin Skywalker, you are under arrest for the murder of Ruwee Naberrie."

He mouth drops open in shock.

_It can't be..._

But she knows it is.

Because she has just seen him kill another man.

In cold-blood.

Clearly, he is capable of murder.

And he has already threatened to kill her father before.

Twice.

And now, the murder is calling out, blasphemy of the very blackest kind.

"You've got the wrong guy. Padmé help me out here!"

Anakin's eyes are not the Caribbean blue she is used to, the color that melts her heart and washes away her sadness; his request is more of a command.

His eyes are yellow.

They frighten her.

"I _hate you!_" She screams and then flees from the room.

Tears blurring her vision she streaks out into the parking lot, smashing into another person on the way out.

The woman picks herself up, and draws Padmé into a hug.

Padmé recognizes her instantly, the smell of rose petals and lavender, she tenderness of her embrace.

"Mom?" She gasps, looking up into her mothers kind brown eyes.

"Yes, dear." Her mother whispers, hugging her tighter. "What's the matter.

For a moment, Padmé is incapable of speech.

"I want, I want..." She bursts into tears again. Pitifully, she pleads. "I want to _go_..." She hiccups, her small frame shaking with the force of her anguish. "_I want to go home!_"

Unnerved, Jobal Naberrie strokes he daughter's hair. "Okay..." She takes a deep breath. "Okay, sweetheart."

Neither of them moved for a long, long time.

_*****RH*****_

This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, right now.

The events that brought you to this cold and empty jail cell are all a blur.

Except one.

Padmé's anguished, hateful, horror-stricken shout of _"__**I hate you!**__"_ rings in your ear.

_What have I _done? You ask yourself.

There is one blazing moment in which you finally understand that there was no _Vader._ That there was only you. Only Anakin Skywalker.

That it was all you. Is you.

Only you.

You did it.

You drove her away.

You drove her away because, finally, when you _could_ have saved her, when you could have gone _away_ with her, when you could have been thinking about _her_, you were thinking about _yourself._

About how angry Ruwee made you.

How he deserved to die for what he had done to Padmé.

_You_ never _thought_ about what it would do to _her_.

_You_ never _thought_ about the _consequences._

_You _did _what you wanted._

You satisfied _your _feelings.

Satisfied _yourself_.

And yet, only when Palpatine arrives does it hit you.

In that blazing moment you finally understand the trap, the final cruelty of the Mob-

Because now _yourself_ is all you will ever have.

And you're up, raging and screaming and shaking the bars of your cell, trying to get _out_, to crush the man who has destroyed your world, but you are so far less now. Without _Vader_, you are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was, but the power you can touch is only a memory, and so with all your world-destroying fury it is only your screams of rage that shake the prison you've trapped yourself in, and in the end you cannot touch the shadow.

In the end you do not even want to.

In the end, the shadow is all you have left.

Because the shadow understands you, the shadow forgives you, the shadow gathers you unto itself-

And within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame.

This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker.

Forever...

_*****RH*****_

Anakin kneels before Palpatine.

"I have come to release you." Palpatine says.

Anakin doesn't move.

"Lord Vader...can you hear me?" Palpatine presses.

A pause. Dark as the space between spaces.

And then, an oath, so utterly requisite that uttering it will bind Anakin to this man for the rest of his life:

"Yes, Master."

**Well, sadly, that wraps up Republic High. I would like to take a moment to thank everyone who has reviewed, this story would not be complete without you:**

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**Thanks again, everyone!**

**Please, don't forget to review. I'll have the sequel up as soon as I am able.**

**May the Force be with you,**

**~Ink17**


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